![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2kGntvLu3buvpFZhW7ERo8KiEO_7dUQhcgoB4kuZr-mpnOQfiVtfdpInLLPmROKrdlmCUQdnorLY6ACWhYfxmLVEiNKNhyphenhyphen2T1AcYjwercDii2Ecnd9H-Wfei8OxSUwrccfbK0sw/s400/Analect2.426x.jpg)
27 January 2009. Heliotrope, blue sky, and flash of cyclist's cobalt sleeve, his polycarbonate helmet wedge, streamlined white...
Just before: Beeping bleat of golden bus, empty now, parked askance in 7-eleven lot. Children all in or all out, somewhere along the run, a curving lane in Kensington, uphill slope, redwoods and firs, mockingbird in a crooked branch--or hint of the phainopepla, Leonard's bird, "silky robe", hidden in marsh mist, and diving now for something small and on the wing...
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