I have observed Labor Day by doing basically nothing at all, but
selkie introduced me to the sea-flooded Paleolithic of Cosquer Cave with its seals and great auks and the hand-marks of children and the one unknown figure like a seal-headed man speared, which reminded me that some days ago I meant to link the Langton Herring burial with its amulet of a Roman coin and its copper alloy mirror whose bladed crescent pattern made me think at first sight of owls. The clouds tonight are too thick for the aurora and the last of the Perseids, but the light has done its knife-trick of paling suddenly to autumn, as if summer just blew off it like haze. I am sure the heat will be back, the way we have scrambled the seasons: I keep trying to look for the tells to hold on to, like the late green curl of the leaves; the last of the monarchs in milk-jade chrysalis, a record twenty-two this summer if all safely make it to flight. I could go for a small ice age if I could be assured of the megafauna.
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- 1: Wish everyone could hear when she sings
- 2: All the ghosts, some old, some new
- 3: I cannot feel it, the veil of black, a fine spray of white paint
- 4: I make sure there are hidden messages in my work
- 5: I'll stay out until my mind is like a clear glass
- 6: The wind is blowing the planes around
- 7: Pilgrimage, private life, mortality
- 8: My dream house is a negative space of rock
- 9: Your spirit watched me up the stairs
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- Style: Classic for Refried Tablet by and
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