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  • When hearts are blue, they look to the sky, which knows all about the


    ness, of things.

    When hearts are blue, they go sit in a corner of Skyland, and wait

    for the changeable weather

    systems which hearts

    know all about, even if the charting is unknown,

    even to the spoken.

    When hearts are blue, they look to the waves, even if the waves

    are seagulls' wings spread wide as atria in the sunshine. What do hearts know? Hearts are

    mute feeling things. When hearts


    when hearts are

    blue hearts

    look to empty octopi in ocean deeps, deep as pi itself, in green with eyes in pi wave

    chemistry when hearts

    keen to the blue side, still on the margins the world frames us in that winky mauve pink;

    when hearts are blue we feed them shortbread cookies, because if life were long we could

    abstain but being as life is as short as a cookie, we feed our hearts.

    It's autumn.

    Brisk is crisp.

    My stride is longer, my speed is faster.

    I feed cookies to the blue hearts in the sky corners.

    (Photo by Susan, 2013)

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