Thursday, April 23


To awake hungry,
you must lie down
with the memory of
a feast

a handful of warm berries
who leave their mark on your fingers
a handful of air
grasped in a moment of ecstasy

reaching for the pinnacle cloud
with the tip of your toes
as the arc of the swing
takes you higher

until you come full circle
to the familiar,
the starting place
it all began...

the memory
of being born


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