New house. Old chair.
About to take a shower.
That same old dream comes knocking.

Fool’s gold.  Maybe mica.
Hollow in a boulder.
Monk’s hood.  Tiger lily.

Deadly as water hemlock.
Nightshade.  Western rattler.
Sunrise after sunrise.

The valley.  The morning paper.
No end and no beginning.
No substance.  No foundation.

A good supply of fuses.
Ripe tomatoes.  Red bell peppers.
Maybe tacos.  Maybe pasta.

Clean white sheets and dirty windows.
Not much purpose.  Not much pattern.
But enough.

 

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