A-frame leaning                just like I remember
                                           in missing it :
                                           something powerful


                    blew my carnyx & the trees spoke
w/ thir insects at night—summer—rhetorical

hymn hewn of
                          a spoil heap, what
                  content has
                  of the image

that yellow is different that pink house w/ the light
    whose integration’s almost unreal . . .

I’m trying, unable
                                    but how else come to say