6.30.2016

meadow

A float
A city
A ghost
Privy to
What's
Mostly
Here

Lack of
Fear
Ruminating
Leave us
Here

The sounds
Befall what
Ever we
Are
Looking
Just fine
To be
Found
Here

Go up to
A greased
Pipe and
Lock sights
With what's
Lost from
Our view
Here