Stone Period

I am hearing the words
and not reading them,
I said. The Cave said,
oh good, it’s working,
welcome back, breath,
into, under our silver
bell, errant ear. Yes,
come, servant scroll,
said a formal chinook
dragging itself downhill,
a rusty fishhook of air,
a brisk basket of fear
that would have me
a motion of its own.

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