augury doggerel

Friday, July 19, 2002


Butterflies all day try the windows as if they want in out of the sun or into the sun in the mirror. And this morning, still early, a wagtail who must have missed dinner last night is already out and walking our sill, looking sidelong up the glass, neither at nor through, for breakfast in silhouette. And I look out. Work bores, cuts into me with a dose of painkiller.


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