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The Angels

Bone deep exhaustion landed me

in bed before nine with a wild

wind for my lullaby and now I’ll

go out of my self and out of my

house into the world wondering

what I might see or hear or do

on this impeccably particular day

what might appear arise

accost my senses

hurl me forth to imaginings

of tall ships and elephants

sights unseen dreams undreamed

a cortege of angels following

wordlessly above hovering

thither and yon traversing and travailing

waxing silently poetic about

whomever whatever

and whyever not.

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