Unwounded Waiting

hands geese-gloved to elbows
eyes lightening of ice
stifling, pungent scent of mold
becomes a blue-sky-tan

and a cloud-jacket
always zipped
mountain-fish watch
Calla-Lily and sigh

even the echo
who sells mountains on the mall,
a lost ventricle wanders
in the evenings, beneath monolithic presence

lawn-grass, palm reverberation,
aloof glance haunting in their sills,
storms crawl out along the house
tickling her feet

but nobody
reaches out to collect rain’s memory,
the pulse silk-evenly thins as it strengthens
through a spider, unwounded waiting.

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