Through the Mud (from the book Blue Bridge)A line of robots,We approach a wall of mud,Some of us carrying flowers.The others laughBit when we enter that wallIt is the flowersThat will make us an arkTo...
—Jay Woodman
Meltwater (from the book Blue Bridge)Up here. A faceLoses its linesI look to seeThe colour of your eyes …They have turnedTo water.I lean forwardTo catchThe scent of your hair –All I smell is heather.I touch...
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