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Posts Tagged ‘wings’

Step One

After dragging
those heavy things
on its back
for miles and miles
across the desert
at last the bird
looks up and says
something’s not
quite right about this
pilgrimage.

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six

why prefer?
the piñata before the strike
or just after

*

mud puddle
only the moon
doesn’t jump in

*

though tattered
I clutch at them, these shreds
of who I was

*

knitting the last row
I consider unraveling
the whole scarf

*

the sun takes me
by the hand—the mountain
can’t be tall enough

*

not the song
that made us look up but
the sound of wings

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three

the floors themselves
laughed when it fit on my foot
the glass slipper

*

do you want a bag
for those, said the woman
who sold me my wings

*

it was no thicker
than a word mid air, that wall
that trapped me for years

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