A dream, still clinging like light to the dark, rounding
The gap left by things which have already happened
Leaving nothing in their place, may have nothing to do
But that. Dreams are like ghosts achieving ghosts' perennial goal
...
The pine branches reach—the rain! the sun! the edge of the
moving air! three goats!
Girls on razor scooters turn the corner and scoot
Autonomy actually shows, it shines amidst the stars of decision
...
Come October, it's the lake not the border
that has been redrawn. Thinking
about the event afterwards, I realize how remarkably well-prepared
the girls are. There don't seem to be any slouches
...