Little Corner of World Poem

Pattern A)

 

A series of moments, of myself, in this little corner of world,

—every day here,

most every day here, falls further along,

under novel folds,

 

of her.

 

Pattern B)

 

I touch the wet glass

in the hope—of myself—it melts and

loses burden, against hand,

loses grip

on sand, as time makes corners here

 

ever cold.

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