nearby words
jostle me
like strangers
on a bus
rummaging
left and right
the pockets
of my mind
trailing pollen
as bees do
waking flowers
waking flowers
seeding cognition
prying seams
stretching wool
leaving traces
glistening bright
of half-eaten candy
to be savored later...
of half-eaten candy
to be savored later...
lucy meskill
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