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Heather Bradley Feb 2016
First morning impression  
emerges unmovingly clear
An infinite stretch of empty bed
illuminating what we’ve become
And the music waits urgently
silent in the shadowed corners
for the tangle of my heart to unwind
become fragrant and full again
And the birds perch steadfastly
grasping the highest branches of hope
with the frenzy and stillness
that is the music of their world.

— The End —