~inflection point

 

 

 

air

 cloudstains clutter

     the passing moment

 

and crows have misread

     a blue-eyed sky

 

 earth

handbreadths slay

the august rose

 

obscure voices penetrate

the symmetry 

     in cornstalks

     and gathered scars

 

fire

scatter the seed from

an ashen womb

 

     renew the tree

 

its peculiar burst of red leaves

 

water

like a ritual as old as

     a river

 

     missing salt

softens the backbone

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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