there is a
typo
in my copy
of
green rock,
winthrop bay
where pier
is spelled piet
which fits
the dour work
of churlish intent

yet each time
i come across it
a flaw transcribed
into flawlessness
i smile sadly
my every myopic
polarity swing
has a mirror in
her words and even
the flaw sums up
the reader’s own