INSIDE THIS ISSUE:
Shutta Crum
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FOR RUTH STONE Touch lightly the first fragile strand find another this one trails into darkness the next into light another into mist follow the stand and it transforms becomes more complex a chamber a cell a thing unto itself this cell is part of another and another touch and reach begin to see a pattern each cell tighter more complete than the last persist intrigued by knowing The web vibrates waves of recollection stir well snared by your seeking her presence will find you you can go no further coupled to cells and strands that are too small realization is fragile and comes apart with the wind UNTITLED You arrived like the first peach of summer Sweet and delicate A treasure Too soon gone FLOW unmapped a distant river rumored dark and swift flowing through caves cracked boulders and eddys I'll build a boat fashioning limbs trunk of white pine weave rope juniper fiber a sail of skins drag it over rocks and roots legends, dreams and petrographs provide insight a course will be laid on birch paper stars and moss will point the way ciphers hidden turns and landmarks must be carved into the hull come morning in a calm pool I'll launch the boat and load the gear head into the white current round the first bend steer away from shore into the mist the journey is on
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