Ink & Alchemy
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Fulfillment

1/9/2022

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​It wasn’t the black water
or the yawning hum,
not the solitude,
the floating questions 
I could not name.

It was the cattails, 
cinnamon bodies
long-limbed,
ceremonious
as if shelter depended 
upon nothing
but this open sky, 
sunshine slipping through
to rest awhile.
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