July Poem 26

The grass, in this corner, full off

The sturdy base of the porch,

Heard an easel and canvas

From the finalist center stage.

His height down like to the grass,

He hunched under the tree

Of tonight’s further ado.

Set up around the grass was

The western understanding.

The captains of grass had to be full of color.

They set up and could not move.

Of the stage, they wore peach colored tree

Hands that followed behind when both gentlemen

Could not be sure how long I had been turned

To face them. I feel roots. I don’t know.


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