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a gentle tide
entering my dream
the call of a loon


trail dust …
climbing Mount Hood
with my shadow

campfire embers …
my mother’s voice
drifting to sleep

winter rain —
on my resume
the weight of ink

in a trail of dust
a moth in flight

first confession —
a heavy stone falls
into the sea

her tombstone
the scent of moss

among endless
trees and deep valleys
the mystery of me