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Our lord of literature

  visits my love,

they have gone below,

they have lost their way

among the tablets

of the dead --;

    preeeee -- dark energy -- woodrat

  in the pine, furred thing

      & the fine,

a suffering among syllables, stops

  winter drops from cold,  cold,

miracle night  (a fox

      deep in its hole under yellow

    thumbs of the chanterelles,

  (no: gold. Gold thumbs, Goldman Sachs

    pays no tax ... (baby goats

in the pen, nor blaming God,

    not blaming them --

(alias: buried egg of the shallow-helmet turtle

      [Actinemys marmorata]

alias: thanks for calling the White House

      comment line))))

For your life had stamina

from a childhood among priests

& far in the night,

beyond the human realm, a cry

released from the density of nature --

At the Solstice, a Yellow Fragment

Brenda Hillman

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