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Birch

But a melody can go so unheard
it bitters. I’m tired of warning you
what will always be 
your life under that tree.
It’s shadow, crooked and cold on the sea,
has one leaf gusts can’t detach: the shadow
of a melody doubly unheard.
Even Al-buraq needs years
to bound around your birch
teeming with Persian swarms
of mute bluebirds and yellow.
But the tree I see
to you is another tree
this is the meaning of Babel.
Posted 11/26/13
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