page
yet another
on the journey turned
is that what it’s called
this erring oblivion
of ends and beginnings
not knowing why
not knowing whence
nor whereto from here
questioning no longer
what portent in
sea’s glittering mirrors
sands brushed away on dunes
echo of cries dying in the wind
dreams from threshold
to threshold displacing us
or
stars’ borrowed light
fadings that precede us
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