(the merest urgent thrust of green
chartreuse, threadthin shoot
between the greasy tiles
i might have been praying
on hands and knees
on grey linoleum--
i was not praying
for a poem
or anything
but, loving, to clean
smashed breakfast eggs
the sticky film of milk spilled half wiped up
and here this tender shrill emergent
green-- what unsought words
furl silent, crescent, singing
in this?) thin thread of
Green
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