Tuesday, May 14, 2013

May 14, 2013

closing the window
on sweeping branches, bird calls:
blue: shuts out the world.

(what cannot fit in the haiku-- it also shuts out the sounds of the roofers-- the sounds of their trade but also their screaming, their swearing, their coughing, hacking spitting-- sounds like sandpaper from my cerebral cortex to the tip of my tailbone.)

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