Shotgun
What kind of being
does our longing
create, cedar-cloaked
ghost clutching
at our knees, riding
shotgun, showing
us how the farthest-
away hills earn
the translucence
we keep draping them
with, even when
it keeps sliding off.
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3 comments:
'cedar-cloaked'... what a beautiful thought miss hannah....
thea.
xx
Beautiful poem... and what a gorgeous opening...
Lovely, Hannah, especially the "cedar-cloaked" image.
I like your use of the word "translucence", how it implies our failure to see that what we keep striving for is right in front of us.
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