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A Wednesday Poem
(For A Young Man In Need Of Color)


Following my eyes
I keep leading myself
to intersections:

A rich oasis
nestled in the hollow
between scrub-mowed corn fields

A stream running
below a shallow arc in the road

A flat horizon pulled taught
across an expanse of deep clay
suspended within the body
of this lake

a mustard invitation
to the promise of green

a red crescent
drawn below the eye
of a fish out of water…

Color
found
at the edges of things

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