Year of the Goat
A thought enters
your head. It imagines itself
 
growing like an infant.
 
How wonderful it is to be born!
How lovely and unrepentant
 
it is to live.
 
You must remember also
there is the love
 
that grows in the wet soil
 
and must be
tended to thrive
 
against the frost.
 
(I, too,
numb to the apples
 
rotting against the ground.)
 
What’s important now is we
recover
 
our senses.  
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