in someone’s reverie
dark woods
chorded as these colours are
there’s weather in the head
its own world spinning
where I am furled
and bells ring there
a sapling springs
some say
like a heart
pumped round
then the pinking
to unfold
a path in the garden
where day is home
a firstness edged
all wings attend
up flutter, find
and say
must be our spark
there’s no one here in charge
no one to thank or blame
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