Early Morning on the B Line from Vero Beach to Orlando after a Poetry Festival
By Poetry Issue 95
On the road before sunrise, so none of us were citing Homer, Keats, or Dickinson during the drive to catch my flight. Only after I’d asked did Sean and Jens mention the anaconda they had found once in Sean’s cattle pasture. From time to time someone spotted the height of egret whiteness crossing daybreak’s blaze…
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