so splintered this well
reflects stuttering
and shuddering, shouting out
at an unrecognizable reflection
ever dreaming a still surface
ever catching the glare
a subsiding shower
under a dusking sky
a halo of dreams
that circle around the last grasp of a flexing tree
perplexing the ages
pressed against the rich bark
founded with consumption, often of an unknowable entity
striving for remembrance
and longing for a glimpse
of your swirling skirts in slow motion
dancing there on the red rocks
above the defeated winter seas
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