by Francine Marie Tolf
Litte snake on the wet path
reared its head, red tongue flickering.
Like Saul, I halted,
astonished by brightness.
if compression is the first grace of style
by Francine Marie Tolf
Litte snake on the wet path
reared its head, red tongue flickering.
Like Saul, I halted,
astonished by brightness.
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