Expansion by Woody McCree ~ep

08 May

In the ripple of moonlight on the river,
A heron glides from reeds to tree.
A frog plops in the water as I pass.
The hum of cicadas surrounds me,
and the rush of water over Dayton dam.
I stretch my finger to the sky:
What separates me from the night?
Erase the line between it and I.
The breeze brushes the hair of my arm;
My fingertips reach to touch the wind.
This boundary of skin,
Here I do not end, but only begin.

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