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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