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How will I best be of service in the days to come? … I linger at the ice islands … white~blue upon the growing shadows of the river’s approaching slumber … beneath summer~less limbs perch and prey holds to the day eagles’ glint of razor talons sole security … mesmerized by the warmth the memories of Blue Gill can offer in such sentinel staunch hours … eyes mild for a mere mouse of a morsel to pluck from the bank below … before Bitterness and Night tear away the glory of the sky in their clamor dance … to possess and ravage the sunrise while She still dreams of becoming a Blood Orange pudding fit for Dawn to wear … to the cosmic order we all have been born … in their service they embrace all with purpose, skillful matrix … even to the barbs on their flight feathers … thus in truth I shall be the strength of a constant carrying wind.
© 2014 Carla Dawn Dunlap and S.I.A. All Rights Reserved