by Ansley Clark
Touching the dune grasses and their tall glow
an easy way to locate oneself
I have a pile of something here elemental nouns
which disperse like seasonal insects
quinces poach in pink cinnamon syrup
plant cuttings on the windowsill embroider
water with soft roots and suddenly I am more
committed to everything than I realized
isn't this just
so consistently my weakness that I want to stay
stay here I mean on earth
accumulating these little houses
and I tie this old childhood love around my waist
while I wade out farther and I wade out farther
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