under the same sky
where warplanes fly
i walk the pale dawn
agog & grounded
kicking the greyscale leaves
~
its a terrible wonderful world
& we are safe we think
on the western islands
in our bells of mist
& we are safe we think
on the western islands
in our bells of mist
~
now the fire in my knees
is extinguished
by wading thru
the soup
in the hall
a trail like smudged pencil
i imagine as my wake
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