If looking a small window

sometimes a day passes
absent notice or fanfare,

just the ordinary seen & seen
-through—whatever frames

out any room. Or say doors
hold their shape, shrug off

warp of season, that breath
humid asks of every wood.

Say nothing wears or wears
out. Say maybe anchors us

to this kind of living where
we live, how we look & look

on, & where even windows can
call themselves prairie.

 

 

 

 

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