Honoured to have work included in the final issue of Red Lights!
a cardinal
appears out of nowhere
whistling
a song that only you
could have composed
Surrendering
a sachet
of the seven herbs
clasped
between brittle palms . . .
prayers for this new year
stuffing
two fistfuls of snow
into my mouth,
throat chakra blocked
by grief that is unvoiced
on grassy banks
beside this burbling rill,
we sit in silence
for a moment before
the casting ceremony
(note: a casting ceremony involves the scattering of ashes)
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