14.i.23
1109
4.14
the
drift
after sunlight
so little left to bury
not even a breath across the strings
how we play presence
abandon all selves
no now
but
stray
far in the folds
who happen where
all as if flat
just world at a time
here there such shining
as we are
have been
neither then
once beyond
seems forever
I throw myself after the words
so many years down
and the stump springs to life
is everyone here on their way?
has anyone arrived?
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