Enough is a Color

lodged in the carefree heart
is a coin-sized complaint
about the food, the traffic

vining the trellis
bench dew drops domed under
the same moon, another night
enough is a color
not yet struck by light

something distant
too far to assess
the worthiness of it
kin to shape, even kindness

a dream, waking
at the precise moment
the air was to settle
our dust, once and for all

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