85
days
of blank sky 
and knowledge of a leaf to fall 
always short of destination 
I want it to be now with me 
to step into not knowing 
lightly, as with the dance 
freed feet find 
just doing what they do 
like the creek 
when it's not run 
when dry stone's forgotten 
words have left me 
for another phrase 
thought's trained up 
a vine to point 
days of blank sky 
and you scratch at them 
to find a prize 
and then the stars 
come through
a cloud will 
take to its horizon 
so time will pour on 

 
lovely!
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