…Flights of Fantasy (IX) Your loss…

first light

From the ground I’m all ears
Or so it appearstread softly
Legs stand ready in defence
Surrender what is found

The sound surrounds
What might contend at rest
tends to fend as best it can
Contended, it too must end

Ears and soil, and Earth
Birthing anew through sinew & sound
Quick to root, quick to ground
Until it is out like a light

In absence

Guard your marks
Gild your transgression
Release your relative ease
Keep your possessions

Sample your prerogative
Speak all of your mind
Pad out your prognosis
Its your patent I wont find

Nowhere gets lonely  — And so we must police it
You’re not one when I’m only — That as tandem, we must piece it


I’m at a loss, and so I release it
xo

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