Gaunt

And the winds were like knives

the earth like a platter

to serve us like meats

 

Our souls had no souls

and we were hungry, empty –

fragile but indelicate

 

The sun burned our eyes

and the seasons passed

and the snows left us blind –

blind statues of glass

 

The soil became us

and we grew all the flowers

blooming and wilting in witness

 

And the rain retrieved us

taking the many blind statues in the soil

back up into the savage sky

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