sky over the lake
is no different, is my plain of thessaly
is my long view of reaches, too far to distance
too distant to picture, even by the mind's eye
laying blank in the window well was the plume
and the form made perfect by the day never pictured
is my long view of reaches, too far to distance
too distant to picture, even by the mind's eye
laying blank in the window well was the plume
and the form made perfect by the day never pictured