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Inevitable, that the circle be completed, celebrating our seasonal return to the sheltering abode by river, bearing winded surround sounds to our isle of near-perfection, where slivered tongued foamy waves deposit new & used poems on beach, emptied from now repurposed sea shells and hardened conchae's, evidence that the truest inhabitants never leave, always return, with their markers Inevitable, that I write this in premature anticipation, amidst the towers of babble, & honking taxis, imitating Canadian geese, who await our presence to refute any paper, that we fool human claimants, before Nature pretense of ownership, are not mere renters, albeit but for a few centuries, which by larger definition, is an interim short term lease, writ in invisible ink, that tho it yellowing disappears, the orange summer heat magic revives Inevitable, that decades of worshiping this place, now mindbound, as temple, shrine, to a place extant in our minds, wherever we be, as land that owns us; here, we have buried super~hero figurines, sanded, polished memories of loved ones, parents, friends, adventures, times, confusing generations, for the children of earlier children, whose children, now too scream with glee & courageous abandon, familiar+identical to forbears Inevitable, that we live here, though life demands our presence elsewhere, in our minds,* for each year burnishes our genes with sun rays, while sand smoothes our roughened skin, and we are only refresher modifications of our earlier selves, when we first were lost, and stumbled upon this grail, with shovels and red plastic pails, with which we commenced erecting foundations, homes, gardens and vines, and images that are always at home in our minds, living on, in real time…
0
May 4, 2024
May 4, 2024 at 9:37 AM UTC
We (a)live in our minds...
Inevitable, that the circle be completed, celebrating our seasonal return to the sheltering abode by river, bearing winded surround sounds to our isle of near-perfection, where slivered tongued foamy waves deposit new & used poems on beach, emptied from now repurposed sea shells and hardened conchae's, evidence that the truest inhabitants never leave, always return, with their markers Inevitable, that I write this in premature anticipation, amidst the towers of babble, & honking taxis, imitating Canadian geese, who await our presence to refute any paper, that we fool human claimants, before Nature pretense of ownership, are not mere renters, albeit but for a few centuries, which by larger definition, is an interim short term lease, writ in invisible ink, that tho it yellowing disappears, the orange summer heat magic revives Inevitable, that decades of worshiping this place, now mindbound, as temple, shrine, to a place extant in our minds, wherever we be, as land that owns us; here, we have buried super~hero figurines, sanded, polished memories of loved ones, parents, friends, adventures, times, confusing generations, for the children of earlier children, whose children, now too scream with glee & courageous abandon, familiar+identical to forbears Inevitable, that we live here, though life demands our presence elsewhere, in our minds,* for each year burnishes our genes with sun rays, while sand smoothes our roughened skin, and we are only refresher modifications of our earlier selves, when we first were lost, and stumbled upon this grail, with shovels and red plastic pails, with which we commenced erecting foundations, homes, gardens and vines, and images that are always at home in our minds, living on, in real time…
whereshelter
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May 4, 2024
May 4, 2024 at 9:37 AM UTC
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