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■ The oak
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2007-09-13 | | All my life I have climbed up a mountain trying to reach the twilight wound where time coagulates its signs of passage into the next day I am almost there But, who bites into the earth under my feet Whose soles dance on my shoulders Oh God, my forehead holds, descending from stars, another mountain Published in Butterfly Thunder, anthology of The Ontario Poetry Society, 2007
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