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Sport 31: Spring 2003
Sol
page 100
Sol
Solitude, solace, consolation—
sun in its onlyness
shines on us here,
cups the heart in a deep blue bowl.
Courtyard radio. Swallows in pairs.
You'll have to let everything go
but it stays, and stays,
and is connected:
straight white line—no wind—a plane
flying, in the mind, towards the sun.