Friday, September 05, 2003

music went clatter bastion on a day like this. the steel swarm gave up, it's september 5, and peace rode to a scuttle and fest. loom sky was tearable, and rain was equal to diligence, by a fortress or a piano in the woods. mere description could lose out easily, for it was a day worth elegies. were you participating as well, in loges and extreme, while the sun proved a track and thickness left a sentence? our peers awake, suitably. a moraine serves scumble, but plush credence reckons mountain area, the full pay of trotting. how brisk could landscape insist, before an alien logic survives with throat and tongue, the mere event of words? a trailing of shadows and plan, such etudes as carry wander over doorway elevations and mountain strop. the work is hard, always, as we say more than ever. the blues are full of green, or vice versa.

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