days poem

Speech, like
smoke, wafts
just borne — right,
whenthat
calling — culled,
is true.

behind that

smoke, found

surveil, what

lies — perhaps lying

beneath;

truth be told:

twice tales

and new coins

found, there

waterdown

like sea anemones

forgotten in

salttime, turned

to fossil, metalmade

and discovered.

Lying down,

lain, lining

lied once.

Told the truth,

all —

the others.

Found.

Renewed.

The right eye,

Scene, noted.

Morning

culled.

Coins, like ideas

hammered.

t. | queen anne

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