Poetry
Three Poems
Real things inside me he said.
You’ve gotten it all wrong.
I see you and hear you
and that is the beginning of a poem.
Not a circle but a ray
not a definition but a journey
flowering in scenes.
This composition is still all the time
coming into view.
The depth we might say.
I am seeing through you
like transistor songs
from a postcard beach town,
two loves caught in CinemaScope.
A movement inside movement
unlike the stars and flag.
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