a wide meadow whose color is deepening now as if green dye flowed and seeped into its nap...
pure milk-colored light sweeps in a bell-curve above the sun nearly down, transparent white flesh, fading up through many blues, powdery to dark steel at the zenith...
Is this Ursula the lemming's idea…
humming along exactly the breathless, chin-up way Fred Astaire did

 

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