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Tuesday, February 9, 2021

A Sequence in Blue

A powder-blue parallelogram, like an unplanted—field, broken


Blue-black ink flows from the pen



A string of sapphires, dawn’s bejeweled horizon, smoke curls off the tongue


The trumpet wails in mourning 



The azure summer, naked in the cloudless sky, a flight of sparrows composing


The poetry of shadows









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