par Nate Maxson
Pale machines that curve their way across the spring
Moonbodies lingering by daylight and bound by iron
Perpetually escaping,
Plastic backs and maple leaves
Too high in the atmosphere for us to ever know
[Bio]
poésie contemporaine / contemporary poetry
par Nate Maxson
Pale machines that curve their way across the spring
Moonbodies lingering by daylight and bound by iron
Perpetually escaping,
Plastic backs and maple leaves
Too high in the atmosphere for us to ever know
[Bio]