I was at a book store in Grass Valley, browsing obscure poetry pamphlets.
I made a little stack of ones with interesting covers.
I opened the first one, and that is what is said.
I think you are...I think I am...
The Eleventh Dream
"...the street was wide with the emptiness of morning a boulevard, slightly downhill, sloping just so much as would be needed to take the little bit of weight from a childs step.
She walked as if little wings were on her feet."
...like everything else