What did you do,
swallow a fly?
You're supposed to do that.
Describing light line
arcs in air
swept wing open
in the end for insects.
A crucifix of air beneath you
held you up
but let you down
gliding
paralyzed.
You didn't make the summer.
Your heart's still beating; I'll
put you in the shade of a tree.
PSR
Jeanne
>Subject: Still life
>From: "Peter Stewart Richards" <pric...@jancomulti.com>
>Date: 4/8/99 5:17 PM Pacific Daylight Time
>Message-id: <370d4...@news.jancomulti.com>