This is a desolate island of
strange mobidities,
where the desert Sun's rays
glitter like spangles in the violet sky.
...
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This is wonderfully free in movement - I'm really liking what I see here in your work! Anne
Who are we to judge or rate or comment? You know that was great like a ballplayer knows when he hits a home run. Alas, the analogy doesn't even do the poem justice. Sigh. Great.