We can be free
in degrees. The dream,
for example, tries
to do its part:
a stack of cards
from other lovers
and a red shawl.
You don’t belong
to me. Now I’m awake
and things down the street
are loud and mine.
No birds. Trucks.
A dull wind moves us
between seasons.
There is no reason.
There are people praying
on mountains
so we don’t have to.
Emily Kendal Frey, “The Greatest Brightness Acts Near the Greatest Darkness”

(Source: bombsite.com)

Notes

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