Sun sinking into azure sand,
tall grass,
green gone brown, gone red...
pink clouds in a turquoise sky
roll eternity into my head.
Deep black holes
in the old board fence
on a prarie plow rent,
frame
a small brown calf
soon to know abandonment.
My sight passes beyond
the sunken barn,
senses deeply honed by twilight:
How shall I cherish the nighthawks flight
without keeping it?
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