i'll opt to consider myself surrounded,
rather than lonely and amid quiet,
weil there's a whole circus of friends
pulling out a whole nonsense on stops
in the green house, which is toppling over
in not only green but purple and blue and
stars, ribbons, sticks, and soil.
every morning, this lupine surprises me with another tassle.
every morning, it greets me with a trick or two.
something's now on fire, unfolded,
waving greetings, waving dew.
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