From a bridge

Iron flake and orange
Strength and sunset
Earth in an Easter dress
Tapped at with tree-fingers
Peach-blanched with winter
Roll over my shoulderback
Five or fifty dozen times a day
Face-down to my deep dark bloodlines
Molded to their hills and tracks
Warned away from touch
Huddled here under old fish bones
Invisible to the sky, and in it
Staring at the earth, and through it
Rusty old body under a big new sound
Here with you ’til you forget
My joy to sleep and see so much
And never waking, never say a thing

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