(untitled as of yet)
all of god’s plans
sprung to life here in PEI
as an egg tempura painting
the bell dome of blue lacquer
touching the red rim of sand/sea
I become as a pollen grain
on a carpet of white
potato blossoms
up to the rolling coast
temptation to lie
make snow angels
healing in the destruction
of broken stems
seeping leaves
petals thrashed
to drift to the
wet cheek
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