as a moment desirous of remaining

that which does not pass...

a sigh staying its soft statement.

how parallel the poetry, a bird's

sky.

a sky's bird warming up to the

idea of August.

scented blazes of grass put out

by darkening robes that leave

less of day.

the ever present sensitivities of the

gradual...spelled out and translated

more boldly.

there's so much going on as usual, i

have silence in my ear telling me she

wants to spend more time together.