BluegrassPoet
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The solid gray has broken, the sky shades again pearl to charcoal. Stars shine through, the first quarter moon is coy in a veil of clouds.
about 5 hours ago
from Identica
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The last leaves of black-seeded simpson look tired of struggle, brown-edged, a little less than crisp. Or is that my self that I describe?
about 19 hours ago
from Identica
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The air is drizzly dank, the sky a solid gray, the leaves on the ground are a uniform brown, and I'm wearing black today.
about 19 hours ago
from Identica
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Hooray! My gray day just got rosier. I will have a poem in qarrtsiluni's upcoming "Health" issue.
about 20 hours ago
from Identica
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RT @: The greatest compliment paid to Al Qaeda is the fear that they can accomplish much by having their message heard.
10:42 AM Nov 23rd
from web
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rt @ morganabag: crow / created / the universe / dropping feathers / on the wind
7:25 AM Nov 23rd
from web
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@ If it's what I think -- the movie -- all those long white corridors were freaky.
12:44 PM Nov 21st
from web
in reply to Judith12
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@ I remember both but I fell out with Crichton some time ago, and didn't even know there was an '08 remake.
11:01 AM Nov 21st
from web
in reply to Judith12
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The ginko's gold is sodden now, edged with brown, bruised by rain and the tread of industrious feet.
6:13 AM Nov 19th
from Identica
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Tracer lines of rain across the early sun. A pair of gray squirrels play, lazy acrobats, in the bare high branches.
6:02 AM Nov 17th
from Identica
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Pst c'mere, pst c'mere shrills a bird hidden in sunrise mists, faster and faster, a demented old woman with a hot bit of gossip to praddle.
6:16 AM Nov 16th
from Identica
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I speed along high ridges from river to river under a sky shaded turquoise to lapis lazuli, palette knife daubs of cloud.
4:44 AM Nov 15th
from Identica
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Across the meditation trail, half-buried in fall gold, a possum skeletion sprawls, little dinosaur, its naked tail untouched.
4:43 AM Nov 14th
from Identica
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A sickle moon shines once in a clear black sky and again in the waters of the pond. Reflections of security lights drown out the stars.
3:20 AM Nov 13th
from Identica
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I pull my car into a slot suddenly paved with golden ginko leaves. Oak leaves occupy the bench beside the institutional sculpture.
6:08 AM Nov 11th
from Identica
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Half a dozen crows make a complaining progress from northwest to southeast, breaking the quiet of the morning garden.
7:25 AM Nov 10th
from Identica
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On a day of rare November sun, I wash gloomy windows, brush away egg sacks that cling to the frame. The spider hides under the sash.
5:43 AM Nov 9th
from Identica
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Frost, sown diamond dust, sparkles under the gibbous moon. Ice in the bucket withstands a knuckle rap. Water in the puddle reflects stars.
3:40 AM Nov 6th
from Identica
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A dove forages among the fallen dogwood leaves, hunkers down and disappears. Light from the rising sun is a watery yellow.
4:59 AM Nov 5th
from Identica
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The sun is hot on the horizon - the angry pink of a suppurating wound - but I am cold in my room, clutching my coffee cup for black warmth.
3:55 AM Nov 4th
from Identica
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