the sun was orange, I had to stare

the moon was almost full in the sky

the turkeys coo on roosting boards

one bird is killed from up above

eyes are closed in a pool of blood

but we only wail for a minute – this is how it is. We can see only so much future in the scree. More then that, we move along the same trails as the paws and talons, and there is always a beginning and an end. So we begin again,

and again,

and again,

until something feels right. And then we stop for a moment and feel fine.


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