Parading

hoping to catch sight of the future. It’s near where

He tells her of the place where clouds are formed.

this is freedom. This is the force of faith. Nobody gets

wavering forest of bluegreen leaves

it’s like a great colorful

then one of the cats quickly turns its face

Buskins of shells, all silver’d, used she,

strung from a thought arrived through the keyhole grasping

With a dog paddling behind me,