Sunday, July 23, 2017

form turning seasons

a memory from July 2017:
an erasure poem that I once played with in folds and photographs. I didn't really think I would find it in all the files, as I couldn't remember the title, but my subconscious knew the way.

So here it is, on a weekend that brought all kind of weathers and temperatures and feels like a wheel of turning seasons.

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