========================================== return to TOC for issue: Fall '08
that which passes
collects somewhere
waiting for its meaning
how’s this for a thought
poetry tears the cloth
even as it repairs it
you don’t have to buy it
to break it
it’s a broken season
too far past beaucoup
love’s angel is firm
a beautiful sound, doloreuse
mirror rhymes with error erde with mére
to touch the first land
you must have swum far
earth’s distant as a star
where all the crimes occur
there are other trees
beyond the trees we see
