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Crow's-Feet
...I'm holding some wild
idea of unity, conviction, like a jar

of pollywogs, so carefully carried,
so full of potential, live, live, I say

quietly to the far, which isn't a jar
but my own pounding invocation,

I am not fading, but becoming
ungovernable. ...

"The hurting kind"
I have always been too sensitive, a weeper
from a long line of weepers.

I am the hurting kind. I keep searching for proof.