Monday, November 11, 2024

Poem, Sound, Pressure


Shale Grace
November 11, 2024

ponder, then, that sole note, dawn solo
in sunrise breakthrough, in pressure increase
across six hundred valley seconds
where bow-shock passes glaciation
bringing mountain, bringing mud
bringing severance of stone
resounding in hasn’t happened yet
where letting go is all around

* * *

* * *

In my head, goats are yelling at the sound that isn't. All we hear are the goats.



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