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lifted

by other names
my heart is worn –
by other loves
the same

tho not as one
that held the wren
above the darkest storm

with not the fire
a northern trust
to flame
were stars revealed

of wonder
curved against my breast
this racing drum
to still

in places
I am older yet
than e’er these stories know

as one to sail
beyond the night –
with every letting go

. . .