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A Tyburn Tree in Diebus Nostris
This summer seems to be a Tyburn Tree
Everything upright connects to crossing beams
Whose angles cancel every aspiration
In a suspension of time, of thought, of hope
This summer seems to be a Tyburn Tree
Everything horizontal paused in place
Resting upon the uprights locked in theirs
In a suspension of all purposes
This summer seems to be a Tyburn Tree
Where our uncertainties together hang
2 comments:
Woeful. I always learn something from your writes. Thank you.
You are too kind!
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