as a postman of bones
and odors as a reader
of leafy texts
a watcher of flickers
and follower of flecks
and cracks in ancient
faces and scripts
in the pediments
of streams where
the blue one-legged
heron stalls I take
my form from figurations
of the storm and dirge
my rhythms from exceptions
omissions excursions
my calm from the demiurge
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