29 days until Christmas Eve (again)
28 more sleeps till She is Home (again)
a month of turning, tides, solstice wintering again
She is a soft lovely beauty
i’m taken to her folly and her lands of delight and of dreaming
her left eye is the dreamiest
in the last it was the right
with Her i look East and to the Southerner lands and levees and water
for turtles, for blue fish in aqua waters warm, for Mexico
“Get your passport in case you need to escape,” is no joke
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