Life
is
liminal
liminal
liminal
liminal
liminal
liminal
so a crow caws
from a branch in the
swishing dark
outside
the window-
pane
drops of tiny
travelers
pane
drops of tiny
travelers
hang
for a breath
on
the bare
teary trees
teary trees
against
which
I stand
as a blurry image of myself.
I stand
as a blurry image of myself.
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