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DJ Gaskin
it is of eggs— tug between this world and the next.
When a Tree Dreams
robin’s, dove’s—
the gentle cradling,
the perfect fit
of bluestem straw,
alder sprig, mud,
down, hair, in its wind-
strong cup of sky-
reaching branches.
it is of pages—
pages, papers,
sheaves of books,
language unlocked
fiber by fiber,
leaves unfolding,
stories told
in the turning,
swelling rings.
it is of pining—
desire, a delicate
grieving, a mournful
rustling, a restless
resignation and
the puzzlement—
the twig-thin