Sunday, October 14, 2018

Blithe Spirit, Vol. 28, Number 3, August 2018

snowfire a fox takes shelter in the curl of its tail


sun spider
I centre myself
in its web


the language of loss

the last herd
of grey ghost caribou
nearly extinct
I hold your hand
until you disappear

we offer her
to the warm earth
in a silence
more eloquent than any
language of loss

ghost-light
above the coulee
an antelope
lies down beside
my sister


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