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Hélène Dorion, from Seizing: Places

All around you the season / circles...

All around you the season
circles, like the sky’s bones
like the days’ cold marrow

growing cloud by cloud.
(Throat
closing on the horizon
a mouth of flown leaves, the body, light
as a bird, crouches.)

Soon the wind
the water crash at your feet
– the landscape stops.