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ROC

By Deb

We walked into its crop,
dazed by necessity,
jangled, polished and worn
pared thin, transparent from no dreaming
and the gravel of without sleep
close to where gods once lived
before they were tamed by physics.

Roc roars and hisses
infinite, billowing through thought,
minds of butter melting into a midnight,
we left on the dateline
to carry yesterday with us,
flopping, bones excised
by how small our planet has become.

Tokyo cherry blossoms
greedy for sun,
droop into twilight
Roc roars again in whistling breath,
wings rigid, shaving the air
curls and whorls of it
falling in loops behind us.
to more neon and polished smiles
bleach more life from us
while we admire them
reassured by professional courtesy
soothed into quiescence
until Roc swallows us again.

Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia,
a name to conjure with,
Oh Roc,
swooping in with night
to quiet earth and hushing heat,
humidity glazes the stars
with the hum of humanity.

Morning crawls into our dreams,
south to wide flat land,
Roc spreads claws, settles easy
beside gnarled watching trees
is diminished at last by horizen
who spreads her welcome, and love
within the joy of one small white dog.

deb 11/12th April Y2K

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