latency

there is little expectation but the dance. perhaps a chance to remember the unsaid thing will arise: long against this night, sizing up, falling -

lines of body. whistle the darkness, please, & remember that the key is in the less important way. i couldn't say: o, no. so. the hawks have found their thermal; there is much scope here. these days the patio is warm with winter sun & the highway just in the distance: at night a gleam between mountains, stringing light, bi-colour. but often the fog shows little more than the cool light at waxing points.

there is great whiteness through these windows. it is a very strange thing.