seasoned woodfire oak,
exhales into the gray ocean air,
the two entwine in
gray, tinged with space
tinged with salt
tinged with a memory of snow that rests on breathing
here a whale is breathing
here a slug is breathing
baby ant breathing
newt, salamander, frog breathing
sisters and brothers, mothers, all beings
breathing
words crumple in a damp newspaper ball,
damp fir twigs
cardboard toilet paper roll
paper
the oak, a gift from her teacher
someone lights a fire
pīti softens the corners of the room.
Marajina Samaneri
March 26, 2012
Aranya Bodhi Hermitage
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