discharged, slim narrow blue
white the revelation is electric
there, in the swallow still lingers
illness, and paper work and
long hours chanting out
childhood until it is vespers
the Lords Prayer, a hand
washing a hand, and the clean
dry winter that comes crisp fresh
and never ending, I breath deep
and feel each crystal forming
the solidity of health
in the caverns that once housed
ghosts, art, feeling- the power of
need and the hand extended,
the haunted mind reaching.
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