where the sand grows

Unnamed moods,

like entry level planets…

unsigned bundles,

ironed in

facing out.

the way children get,

with the present missing.

It is a poverty to be steady.

What will that leave me?

Nothing that can be lost?

Nothing not replaceable?

A banister of sunlight!

for stairs:

shoals:

roofs:

that is, the people holding

the people holding.