Rare Pride

 I can’t do it anymore

shed the scent of my birth


& its undelivered light

stay here


inside the mountain’s fog

one mountain loves another


the shapes of trees

stalk me


I divine my sleep

the shape of snowfall & light


I’ve told no one the whereabouts

of my intent


to vow a silence

that cannot last


& then there is the shape

of light the shape of bird flight


the shape of my mind

the absence of a celestial


appearance announces

in the sky of our world

the births that do not give

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