Poet, Sheila E. Murphy, wrote in a haibun for Peter Ganick (read full version at http://ex-ex-lit.blogspot.com): "The word for weeds that should be jewelry makes the yard a globe. The place to pay admission is the mind, where rock formations dry after an overdose of winter." That empty yard is a landfill for every full & generous poem in orientation. Look here to energize the mind's eye and elasticize the sky.
"some sunshine every sleeper is
convinced of essences a malleability-
cull it ductile-seeking neutrality one
step from togetherness-"
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