a lark,
on one wing
I fly,
seeking
hunted trees
where unseen forests
grow in each branched shadow
in the manner
sad seas
hide
in
each drop
that falls from eyes
and crashes floors
(seasoning face)
. . .and reseeding. . .
a lark,
on one wing
I fly,
seeking
hunted trees
where unseen forests
grow in each branched shadow
in the manner
sad seas
hide
in
each drop
that falls from eyes
and crashes floors
(seasoning face)
. . .and reseeding. . .
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