Midnight Sun



Midnight Sun


When the ancient, throaty songs

of sandhill cranes 


your longings left perched, gaze skyward —

stirred in clavicular curves

of dust.


In crossing that span of crane

and tundra

your rib cage cracks open, catches fire among

willow and rock like the 


each head a bright cloud, aflame.


Within their call you hear

that truly,

your heart is held here, 

balanced by hollow bones and

a sun that never sets but 


a fiery kiss at the horizon, 

echoing the light that binds us —

and you know suddenly, deep within your own

feathered soul,

that we use the illusion of darkness

as an anchor.

Categories: Uncategorized

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