PHOTO BY DAVID SANDERS |
Wind
blows over
crackling
of rock underfoot.
I blink my eyes
squeeze
them shut and
open
them again.
Will
the mountains
stop moving
in
and out like the tide?
Will
the wind
stop calling out
to the open blue sky?
Will
the brown
and gray earth hold me
steady and
balanced?
I
am dizzy
from
the motion of nothingness.
And
still-
so
still that
the
air has hollowed me out.
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