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  • Writer's pictureAmelia Nicol

LibraryPoem

Dust gathered in mind, in air

in these rime particles that could

branch to another vaporized stillness

but, never muddied the rain


Distances between guessing

these portions of daylight spread out

in tiny prisms of dimension

just dust, it's just dust


Dirt road grit, hardening paths

of difference and defense

portions of decision broken apart in daylight

light form source-less-ness or within or from this

bright sun so close, thin air escapes

the needed negativity of eclectic exchange

and the limits of possibility in data


Change, chance, discontentment

Chrysanthemums by the roadside

the same diversions, these pasts

these posts, these ghost

Towns, contentment and quiet

No trouble, out here, no trouble


These places are for the pristine...





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