rice and

Possible beginning of a new poem.

rice and

walk and yes i am in love i think wheel locks with a bang images
filter back curved hollows in bricks soft dust under fingers
here is where it comes from soaked through but not annoyed left behind
hours ago the dead ends rust stains on hands scratches slips on rubble
were not wasted careful brush careful clay cracks libretto
translated to english medical supplies company ten years empty climb
through window book delivered cycle through wheatfield to ship canal forty
containers on barge bow wave lifts level of stream then drops and water
sounds over rocks kitchens i will never go back to clay under fingernails coffee