our canoe
noses through mist . . .
a new day
opens before us
into possibility
an old dory
grounded on a sandbar,
its faded flag
the listless reminder
of my pirate dreams
a yellow leaf
lets go of the tree . . .
she held on
long past the time
for surrender
ancient graves
sink into marshland . . .
the long bones
of our ancestors
wandering, still
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