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I Plait The Pulse


I plait the pulse

Of soul

Into a plait of willow.

I plait the pulse

of willow

Into a thread of dream.

The shriek of a nocturnal bird

Has lurked again

Into the colour-leafed embroideries –

Tinted grey.

Both hues of the soul –

Black-and-white nuance

Cry a truth

And drip

Into a paper trance.

 


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