Burning the tissues

Dave BontaContemplative

In a snow-bound ring of stones, I am burning all the tissues from my recent cold.

The sun beats down. Fallen twigs and leaves are melting themselves into form-fitting graves.

A flat wing of ash floats up and hangs in the air like a famous last word.

Dave Bonta

Learn by heart: tap a gap

In a ring of stones,

I am burning all the

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