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Oct 2018
how could I make up
for all your years alone in the
dried up, haunted orchard?

I have made my own small garden
and the cats sit in the dirt
on balmy summer nights and sing
their song that they made
when the world was young

I will share with you the part
that can be yours
I will give to you
a place that you
might rest and sing, too
if you will lift your voice
away from lamentation

can you feel that the very Earth
has come alive again?

the rushing home of all your appetite
has blurred the lens, for just a moment
believe in this, it is real
pace yourself
your soul, your pain, your joy
your wanting, and then
all the receiving, too

your kindness washes over me
and heals the rooms I had walled
away
for all my talk there are places
I assumed Spring would never come again

thank you for being a light to show
that the doorway has always been open
take my hand that
we may wander together
along the path, where
we have never been

all I ask
is to remain whole
and that you will bring your
whole self with you when we meet

I simply
cannot pretend any longer.
either I am enough, in this life
or I am not.
everything else is a lie
tattered in the wind
and falling away
no hands could scoop it up and make
the pretty mask again
and I am too tired to even try

the last packed bag
in her hand
the door made the smallest sound
as she clicked it closed
no one was awake to hear
no one ever would

the car was waiting
and light was just filling the sky
the shadow stood behind her
and then was gone

tap your heels three times
no matter what they say
tap your heels
and wish yourself home
the magic has begun
Written by
corbin sweeny
117
   Fawn
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