Long of Ear

these short days are
filled with long
shadows, even at noon.
the shroud of
frozen leaves jacketing
the sticky tang
of critter. I

have searched these
dead places for signs
of who I was and
have found
nothing. but the
day and the next
day. and yet:
I am awake

again, for the
first time. alive: I cock
my head at the
cuspidated wind.
I am here. (I
am always
here.) and I am
everthing I have
ever forgotten. (I
always was.)

I am short
on sound. I
am long of ear.



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