[I try to figure out what they say to each other;] by Devon Wootten

I try to figure out what they say to each other;
and when, if spring happens, the new lambs will come.

faithful and unafraid to ask even the simplest of questions,
happy to have them simply answered.

Out of the reaches of the impermeable night.
this river staring into time, whispering mistakenly;

only here. only now.

 
god. I sat there like a stone. a sort of betrayal.
It was easy to love him then. she sighed…

t.hose fields shorn of wheat,
as his father’s fields would be in September.

yet it is still spring, it is still meant tenderly.
It was only a moment in the life of the fang.


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