Issue 124, Fall 1992
The trees are equal to the wind tonight.
Our thoughts are in a foreign town. One dream
gives the lemon wings—and the orange flight.
What if the owl contrived to get inside
our room. A white owl with emerald eyes.
Would there be head-space in which we could hide?
When we last spoke, we suggested the sea.
Your white triangle underneath a white
thong-backed V’d isosceles bikini.