-------From Out the Stillness-------
The wind
takes a rest
on a warm day in
Autumn,
And the black flies
return
as if something sweet
and holy I had forgotten
was hiding beneath my
skin.
On the street, a woman
dressed in rags
Collects (Draws) small change
from souls that long
to sit beside her.
In all directions,
from out this
stillness
awakes a golden memory
Of the blood
that is shared
between us.
-------
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