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ExileI.One day the doors will open. One day the sunlight and air will welcome, Will offer the earth's abundance, Its singing leaves and bright flowers, Will welcome as a mother, as a brother and sisters. "I thought you were dead." Disbelief, then shock, then tears. II. A river yearns, stirs with its desire, Years to wrap itself about you To fill its mouth with your dreams. What will the days be then But rushing water Laughing at our feet? What will the nights be then But a marvelous beast Murmuring the language of our sleep? O how our bones would sing! Even death would be our friend. In his cold hands the clay of our flesh Would be an offering Warming even his tired wings. |
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Issue #13, January, 2000 :
Santa Fe Poetry Broadside.