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Untitled
Wakened from the gutter
vagrant of
these sordid lots;
A sparrow betwixt two knuckles
flung from the passenger side.
In their blood
breathes the anthem of silence,
of forest fires
and leaden bone;
a pair of newly sodden shoes.
And through splinters
of an attic window
float nameless utterances;
yours, beyond the shadowed ceiling
of unbroken slumber.
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