shear golden flashes
thru lilt-leaved
dream machines.
Hospitalized, I see joy,
fragile, shine one-time flushes across
my bed w/redwood tufts waving in & out.
Caress this hillside w/car&
motorcycle flashes, roar obtrusive.
Still, I hear birds:
time is opposite of love, fixed;
who would be,
well, golden?
You, in flashes—
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