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Lonely Lochs
January 5, 2024
My head’s above the water;
The divers all are drowning
But I never even knew how to swim.
The thickened paste of sorrow shuts our throats;
Our bodies, still with envy, never float.
Eyes slicked closed,
And nothing stirs the soul.
And I wonder where the wonder wandered and slipped down,
And the streaming sunlight stopped, steaming dead, deep in the sea…
Did anybody think to dredge them up
To even
Say goodbye?
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