prompts raking leaves and
collecting from the forest floor
broken limestone to
build a retaining wall
bone white within
black earth skin
and now in the
second sun-season
the moss sprawls
luxuriant
the gothic arch
from forest maples
to gather light
soon to shed the snow
the structure to tarp the end
convex against the wind
a spinnaker in reverse.
will i be refitting for the ocean?
or will the sea be at my door
by the time i'm done
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