DISTINGUISHED POET
8 Pools appear where water hasn’t reached in years. Cliffs shunt all they cannot hold, plait white upon white against chartreuse stain. It takes only sky remembering to let go. You may never be touched again quite like this spring loves the earth. Pull off at the road’s wide shoulder, where the river swells to unmoor willows― Wind blusters its storage of grit, and the busy chips of warblers. Everything is drawn to a body.
You didn’t know you could flow so strong. Keep the map of replenishment.
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