up
before
dawn
i hear the haunted noises the night left out
the slow honk of marsh geese
black dragon shapes
against
pale clouds
like
photo
negatives
or
peeling paint patches
on
back
alley plaster
i feel Pause and Potential . . . world in a museum
fog horns sad with travel call bored with warning
and
theres a low mandrax moan
of
working steel
from
the
new cranes
giant
like sci fi
on
the
new dredged banks
from troyjohnstone.com
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