All under the desk
The tide too long
Ready to ride that barnacle wake
Brought to center blubber and molecules
Fat as a cat listening
To signs the feeder left out
Done up in blades and molecules
Sophocles left behind
And the sun bathed to soap
Picking up litter and preening its wake
Two feeders and density gone
Fiber free and shucks aside
The ladders were taller than the mitts admitted
Fiber optic and sinister grey
Done up in pools of forgotten grace
Silk screens and silver whirls
Tabs gone paths forgotten
All those islands unmet
All that water unfiltered
And land's the way
The path's for finding
Just a bit
Or two.
Denis Streeter 6/3/13
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