1799
5.337
3.xii.24
this
bird full of skies
knows all
without thinking
where it’s from
and where it goes
your voice is mine
a dream is full of daylight
this one word’s
everything ever said
the wheels and the legs
are always ahead
road, either direction
running away
so many stillnesses
one breeze shows
all the tree is in the leaf
the forest in its falling
in scat the animal’s intentions
an hour is all years
until now
one howl
more than the wolf is
some say the air is empty
we don’t believe them though
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