606
an
idea entertains me
all birds are otherworldly
trees are for forage landed
find the light lost in the ground
we don’t know how to live here
who knows what else is to dig?
a hole is
or ever will
we, by contrast, are habitable
all feet
but we have never landed
twirl up for which we’re best remembered
they leave by the light far flown
a wind tears off
what we call the news soon passed
the border is the thing let grow
day and night
they have sung in
we call it that
we are joining
taken by the air
they leave by the light far flown
the spore of life
was every world distinct
and all its own idea
is it thinking makes so?
we’ll never know
it’s lovely here to be home
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