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	Cascadia Chromatica
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Stacks of pages sitting idle
Water lapping loving at the side
Around the ankles
Rising

North star humming
Gilded cross hanging gravity
Along the walls
Crushing the plaster to
Prismatic nanoparticles

Fickle flakes falling
End over end
Under the gaze of a god
With his eyes closed

Only the weight
Of snow
On shoulders

The restless machines digging
Scraping sending calls out
Pitched up like lost seagulls
Or doves on crack
Waiting on a wire
For you

Your necktie is a little l o o s e
Don'tcha think?

Those sticks from Arnold all snapped
Washing away in the ditch
Where do they think they're going?
Like honey rivers
So slow and thorough
Never scraped clean off

Meandering greetings
But the goodbyes are always so
Calculated

Send me a pressed lily
And pay for the postage
I'll know
What you mean