The Hurley stubborn in me
Don’t want to go anywhere
Don’t want to go no mo
This old fabric of land
Here rent
With memory
What we could never know
Except that it comes alive, the
Place just blooms,
The air, the light and the
Dirt shifting
Thinking to temper obdurate,
Some kind of self taps at
The wild, taps on the window
Look, see this vastness
Loves seem to bloom
From deep down into those
Sighs, long those shadows, and all
So beautiful in
The sun
May 7, 2019
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