42 Readings | 1 Rating


What must you know

to live and die in the joy of this comfort?

the sun robs skin of softness,

rotting imperceptibly

if we’re lucky

if you make it to next year,

may the first buds

be a gift that shocks you silent

how can we take it in?

you stand there under those trees

that tremble, and I couldn’t say it

another way I could have it

no other way

dashing together

light and dust

even as it will finally be

the world come open

for good

Posted 06/23/18
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