THE HOLLOW PLACES

 

When earth shakes

trembling bone and blood

and the hollow places

all the hollow places, unknown

tear, undying

apart.

 

Stories say

somewhere beyond this

a breeze

kisses all the sallow cheeks

a sun

caresses all the tired

shoulders bent from too much

weighted trembling.

The very dust, there, a testimony

full-bloom in mystery.

 

Here, we stand on a crevasse

its danger eluding

even our best intentions.

Each foot planted

in a different world

we tremble, breathe

tremble, breathe.

 

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Copyright 2009 Susan M. Botich