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An Impressionist's Garden
GC (fall '72 / live on on the alfonsina storni side of florida)

An Impressionist's Garden

Poem By gregory collins

Now i think
we are all made
to be freed, not free,
and i was thoughtfully put in my shoes,
and now you obviously cannot understand
without saying a word in another world.
That there are holes in the middle of the night,
and i try to fill them in with color
like an Impressionist's garden.
But premonitions are strung together,
and all i want to do now
is use one of my long mud brown hairs as a dragline,
and sail off to the midpoint of the soul's breeze.

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