I'Ll Poem by delilah contrapunctal.... yes, that's how I intended to spell it.........

I'Ll



meet you
at
the next-to-last resort...
you'll see
green smoke
rising
from
unseasoned
alder branches.......gray-blue mountains.....

...summer roses, violets...some fever-few stragglers
are here.....though sparse, they are stubborn, hardy....insistent...

this edge of the world
has found itself in other than retreat...

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