To lawrence berk, founder.
three paul klee
in the garden a flame tree
a lime tree grows out of control
a degree of polarization
in a green pea boat
a range of motion starts over
beneath an overcast sky
a non-stop flight until a light takes me
melete sleeps together
thalia with a joyous air
for the harpist
a church key for a silent score
and a silver age
a transfer knowledge
i blow out the candle
and boylston street empty now
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