perhaps the waves by Kalamai
where are then old oneswho drew deep from their pens
shaking our minds awake
boiling the dross from words
until bold new phrases gleamed like polished metal
and cut
cunning
unexpected
like a blade of grass slicing
through a finger
there must be by the Archean rocks
a foundation for a poet's home
there must be one new star
with reflection enough
for 'one great verb
to deep from my ink'
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