the shards fall
into the sage,
among the brittle
twigs,
the dust, and night
settle, the wire,
sunders the hillside
the sun sinks,
from the line,
the hawk flies
shadow falls across
the lower slopes
and into the valley
over the freeway
the glow wells over
the peaks, the
streams over the houses
sets the wash ablaze
Sunday, September 27, 2015
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