Fog, Dusk & Cormorants

January 8. -11
Fog

in and out of the fog these feet below me

:::

dense fog spirits of snowmen?

:::

head in clouds low lying fog

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hidden in the fog this sleepy town

:::

sucking out colors this fog is

:::

hard to put a finger on, this fog

:::

absorbing my singing this dense fog

:::

this fog inhabited by crows

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stumbling into an old friend, this fog

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crescent moon scratching the fog

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resting on my glasses this fog

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diving into the fog this country road

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not minding my appearance the fog rolls on

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creeping back whence it came this fog from thaw

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from inside the fog these twin lights of cars

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January 9. -11

Dusk

dusk the day that didn't take off

:::

dusk geese crossing the churchyard

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the soft silhouettes of houses, dusk

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dusk – when did I stop playing the guitar

:::

dusk and colors leaving, a minor death

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dusk houses grow eyes of light

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dusk the snowdrifts cracking under thaw

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Cormorants

line of cormorants
for a while
the horizon wobbles

:::

cormorants in a straight line
I translate my name
into Italian

:::

ghost trees
the habitat
of a cormorants colony

:::

five cormorants
fisherman loading a shotgun

:::

diving cormorants
precisely half a moon
over the gas station

:::

straight line of cormorants
a cello sonata
engraved in plastic

:::

the use of rubber
a flock of cormorants
crossing in silence

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