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A Prism That Is
Donald Revell




A leaf, a secret innocence as happens Inside the leaf, dividing the light When each color in unity deepens Imago, a good death; A secret Running the length of alleyways in Denver, Color of cottonwoods when thunder Steels the sky; God's lathe; A hummingbird turning a lathe to make its nest, And the wind powerless against it, Going through; Afterwards, Imago just one hour, Sun goes down, A prism that is Cool as a leaf, cool And vaporous as grass When grass goes home.















































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