square 1a

slowly drawing diamonds
(and their shadows)
coming to something like
a clearing, or at least believing
there will be one, eventually

traveling with the big song that cuts

when love can be the glint again
always right here
on my table

I observe with narrowed eyes
this glint, or whatever
the birds/sun

shoulders slumped
over love
the hot potato
swallow sharing
even
hide from god

still down to
change your mind
while I revisit
what I make
as love