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child
red

boo
ted

and    
        brilli

ant    
        laugh

        across
wet

        stones
cob

bled
         colors

fire
         light

fine
and

fall
that

         night
         white

a
         moon

         coins
the

can
als
fr      sb     so     er     yt     wa
om   ir      ma   en     hu    y
hi     ds     ny    ot     sr
sb    se      wo   fo     un
ed    ar      rd    ro     st
he    ch     st      ne    he
wa   in     ha     mo   wo
tc     gf     tw     re     rl
he    or     ew    da    da
wind held
the hawk

well above
the burn

and stubble
of october fields

in slow circles
of un

         broken blue
a single note

turning
and re

           turning
how will you

approach silence?
with open arms

a feather of fear?
is there

any room left
in your crowded life

for stillness?
how do you

measure mystery?
winds trespass
and stand

still

clouds tower
grey and

spill

bough flower
drink their

fill

sakura crocus
&

daffodil
the sky the sea
inside               inside
you                              you
corners                                 circles
of                                             of
the deepest                                              the deepest
blue                                                           green
at night                                                    at night
stars                                                stars
dance                                   bell
from dark                     then blink
strings             unseen
and spark and sink
(to nien cheng)

to the shudder
and split

of skin
the rip

of breath
the wet

wings
folding un

folding
in a bloodrush

of color
the first pull

onto the air
the first rise

into the notes
only you can hear


                                             touch tongue to

                                                   each cup
                                                 each chalice
                                              each open hand
                                                     of god


what urged you
from your church?

what inspired the wind
to wake you?
when
kramnik
defeated topalov
there were riots
in the streets
of elista
elated crowds
spilled into
the squares
convulsing
to crown
a new king
wild to be
the first in line
to dine
as they do
on caviar
and *****
oh the stories
that were born
of that evening
when order
was eventually restored
and all the pieces
carefully returned
to their proper colors
a slow white moon
sickled through the evening sky
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