Somerset

Somerset
1-20-18

As a box often set apart
Save it should be our infinite atonement
Cozy at last
The heat seems to be fixed
Angel of light like unto Himself
As one to find the river
O, my people although I do not hope to turn again
River to the ocean goes as quickening to but recover between dying and birth
And the cry of quail where blind eyes create all love and hate of human bondage
And Somerset moving at a smart pace for this foolish face of droughth spilling.....





Expository
1-20-18

Finding new experiences in dreams of going back to class
As binding what seemed to have been divided
In fools with rules with the introduction and another clean bed
O, bless me Father for those who wait in the dawn of necessity
Of selecting words to write to you
Crossing between the rocks
Today I know joy in clean shirts and socks
And empty towns between ivory doors
Tossing aside apple cores  in expository prose
And O, the warmth where Jesus knows
The cry of quail...