summer the boy drowned
shallow riverrun pond
knowing
just the numinous
negative edge
later winter
snow over
frozen lichen
sharded walls
half-gantries
yes I've been
cold long enough
to listen like that
to hear the high-pitched
crack
of the season receding
compressed tightly enough
to stand on
low and level enough
to see the seasons
enjamb
somewhere along
where the boots crossed over
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