Morning



Here I am again grateful again
My mind a field of unbrushed snow
I go outside because I always
Go outside I barely touch the earth
I hover in a state resembling 
Suspended time a harmonic popped 
By a finger’s breath against the violin string 
I keep escaping the everlasting
Surroundings full of speech I listen
For birds to sing spring to the other birds
I half think speech I say to myself
My body is not myself grateful again

 

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Sheila E. Murphy

 

 

 

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