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Lydia Brents
Poems
May 2015
On Whitman
The evening swells slowly,
Growling at the fleeting heat.
I’m unafraid of the night that moans.
I howl my own dark lullaby to exhume the moon.
The ache of deep thunder rests in my chest and
Reminds me I’m smaller than even a star
That glints meekly on a black velvet gown.
I melt like the ink of the sky on the end of a day.
I dissolve like the flakes of snow in the rays of the sun,
To feed the earth
And beneath.
The sea drinks me down, and me it.
Every creature below was once mine.
Now we share in this gorge that splits land
And we see we are kin.
#nature #whitman
Written by
Lydia Brents
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