Wednesday, May 13, 2015


Straight and true
holding, straining,
whistling in the wind,
combing the air.
They dissect the view,
slicing the scenery,
ruling the eye.
Puppeteering the gondolas,
they spoke
the cycling lozenges,
anchoring to the axis.
They limit boundaries
with their steely restraining
and girdle
with benign control.
These are rules:
without their hands
there is chaos.

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