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All material on this site copyright 2020 by Yaacov David Shulman
This plasma of the sun created
Planets and my thoughts created
Deeds. Thoughts swell in them, the drupelets
Of the berries are saturated,
My mind is swelling, it contains
Avenue X, and the car
On Stillwell Avenue cruises, its light
Illuminates the fleeing czar,
And for that moment—as the foliage
Shadows streak the street—each
Movement of our strides is bright,
How bright each granule on the beach.
Yaacov David Shulman