no yellow like yellow never corned upon these shoulder hills patient to unfold meander to the car like cows and lick us, be wet, look: rockabye palest and gentlest yellow hills know we will never stop to love them again and indeed we are hardly stopping now. shoulder hills euthanized with asphalt-blanket, so we take it, split to sea, pretending hills that open so easy as rest reminisced as dream where we still have power.
cdzhouse 