IN THE NEXT LIFE

 

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The soft ways the naked tops of trees
touch each other in this wind
Under the white pines 37 wild turkeys orbit
slipping on marshy ice pockets
I parade our one tall lamp
from room to room in the new bare house
until planting it in the corner that I am living in at the moment
My current mantra is The past is the past
How differently it rings depending on the time of day
and how much light is in it

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