poem 005
Arbor
Upon my back, I raise my eyes,
Above my garden, the sky draws out its circuit
as if pinned by the spindle of my nose,
The grass damp beneath my clothes,
My garden stands above me like an arbor
holding the universe close.
Upon my back, I raise my eyes,
Above my garden, the sky draws out its circuit
as if pinned by the spindle of my nose,
The grass damp beneath my clothes,
My garden stands above me like an arbor
holding the universe close.
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