Myth and Mystery
As day deteriorates smokelike in anesthetic
mist
a smattering of Greta Garbo in
the echo bog
won’t alarm the browsing cattle
Her lithe molecules of ennui
spread illiberally
don’t put them off their feed
silver light on reflective surface
air
She wants to be alone; the bovine
tend to herd
air aims to circulate; light to
penetrate
beams of chilled circumstance through
trees
the Northern Lights have been set
free above
and Druids amble, phantom beyond
the pale
in whose swamp cattle and
actress linger
if I could run a periscope up
above the darkness
what impossibly reactive colors
and voids
would circle and streak above the
imaginary?
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