I could never dredge
a duck-pond let alone
memory‘s well
once
with a cross-cut saw
I divided earth from sky
every Sunday
the light drowns
in my dry well‘s shadow
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I could never walk over
an ocean that was
fathomless despite its clarity
I circumnavigated an oak‘s growth rings
I tore the story apart
waving like a survivor
a moth rasps at the altar
like nothing else
to honour our Father
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