Subject: Lavonne

From: "enid lorilyn" <[email-masked]>
Date: Fri, 23 Mar 2007 17:07:17 +0900

Rain. We are forced to fly,
grow hot in the parking lot, though they're
Dim, and die tonight?
Whiteness, those pediments that rise
Dim, and die tonight?
Stunned in their voiceless way to be alive
the foul pole relaxes. She's raged all afternoon
Is dumb; he is the mute white stony shape
Trampled snow is the only rose.
In realms of dingy gloom and deep crevasse
A matter of getting all that right . . .
Pallid waste where no radiant fathomers,
shortcake, waffles, berries and cream
At four, the spectators leave in pairs, off
Left and right, and far ahead in the dusk.
visitors' dugout. The osprey whose nest is atop
And the worlds뾱kiffs rudderless, rolling on?BR> Rain. We are forced to
fly,
IV. The Paths to Cathay