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                a stone

                I picked it up
                felt the slight weight just enough
                to feel the lift

                ran my thumb over the smooth top
                with salt-traction enough to grip

                to find the lip of the bevelled chip
                to test the arm-loose weight again to

                       H      e     a    v  e

                it straight up
                straight up higher

                higher than an apple tree
                higher than a passing bird
                higher than the downhill lands of London and the Thames

                this is what I can do
                this is what I can be
                and no one would know if only
                I can stay with that




being wormhole: separate
bird wormhole: tag cloud poem III – the journey to BEING and back again
childhood & Eglinton Hill & identity wormhole: bottom of Herbert Road to the / foot of Eglinton Hill dream
emergence wormhole: just words wiped across a line
garden wormhole: tag cloud poem VIII – growth
London wormhole: in desperation and worthless art
stone wormhole: ha ha ha
Thames wormhole: new year’s eve 2014; train up to London to / walk the bridges across the Thames, and / listen to the voices say it is, and was, like, / but get back home before the fireworks / obliterate it all in the emptying twilight
trees wormhole: start where you are I