Edging the night
Obsidian silence
Hot with hush
Solitude and I are long-time lovers
Forget that fact
Savour this sweet second
Autumn ignoring infinity
The hoarse whisper of sea throwing itself at sand
Air chewing the hollow flute
Of my trunk, a blackened slash
A mountain of ash,
Still burning
Remembering snow
From five winters ago.
echologos.net 
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