Mo Stoycoff

Rookie (California)


When the humidity goes away, the sky sits still.
It is a clear blue sea reaching between continents
and I’m a searchlight, scanning its depths for you.

Compelled to follow a narrow country road, I’m
crossing bridges and twisting around groves of cedar,
easing over dips and repaired potholes, traveling.

Thousands of tiny butterflies trickle and then swarm,

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