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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