Wednesday, March 16, 2011

sounds-1978

on the lip of excavated basement listening to the dirt clods, the rocks,  fall  out of time smack- thud- crumble into the cold clay rectangle behind careful steps....

1 comments:

  1. having drug myself to the brink of my natal remembrance, imagine a sign from the other, the blinking email signification. Some tones that tell me to find this blog....and versify.

    Barb Kane
    from the ancient SW empire
    now buried under a dungheap of dried color

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