04.09.2008

Poem (a poem by Forrest Hamer)

Sometimes, after, its small fire still

thrumming just under my skin, I
am in awe of this self, sensing once more

I am not what I would think, not body (early winter light holding
against late day chill);

not the end of this on conception;

but the nature of awe
and the nature of doubting it.

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One Response to “04.09.2008”

  1. Beauty. Still loving this blog.

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