Elizabeth Spires

Small as a Seed

In everything, its opposite.
In the sun’s ascendancy,
its downfall.
In darkness, light
not yet apprehended.

At night in bed, I fear the falling-off.
Though falling, I will rise.
I fear. Fall arriving now.
In any word so small, the world.
In the world I walk in, a wild wood.

 

 

 

 

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To reach me, please e-mail me at gfboyer [at] outlook [dot] com. Thanks!

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