Looking out from the Richmond Library
Five degrees above freezing.
A town, small and go-ahead.
A small town, but going ahead,
subdividing; filling the valleys.
Subdividing to fill the valleys ’til a level is reached.
Woodsmoke, thin and hazy.
Woodsmoke, thin and hazy like morning thought.
There are limits set on how much grey matter -
Limited, how much matter the morning can contain.
My thoughts don’t need to go ahead. The town is small enough to contain them -
Posted in Poems
