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live
in the midst
it itches here
as often told
as if this were
an ever after
you won't remember that
in thunder
too early to tell
mid-sentence
in throes of
the event
(in flagrante delicto)
culpable in
years, seasons
moments
equally
spoken till
the wind stills
woven in the web
spit of the garden
blessed down to size
never knowing
how worlds get on without
but here we are
limber in lower
reach
the storm lives here
there's someone always visiting
on all fours crawl
get thee behind me
go hard
a great persistence
whoever we are
it's grown up all around
I grew up as well
you balance this
on the head of a pin
roar of the road
there has to be a twist
fate fiddle
in all the dream of waking
this has to have been it
stray from stars
light falls to us
imagine very very far
you might just get a glimpse
It's out there
ReplyDeletelike a banjo stirring