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  • In the night ledge forest

    We coo to the lantern arches

    We are the dream doves, our wings close, we burrow to the true feathers of story.

    Ease down, down and coo, my love.

    There is a feathered empathy in the empty night, this night of nests and concrete.

    Out there, those who care nurse and are life-support for others, but who nurses the nurse?

    Let us front-load the billing and the cooing down the blocks and lanterns, let us reach out and touch but ever so lightly, through the heavy ether morning.

    Let us reach out to the hidden, the hiders, but softly, let us know what we know what we always knew: that a duckling's ear can be stronger than a lion's judgement.

    Just a nest, by morning, such a small request in the hearts of many. Just a soft ask and listen.

    It is still night. The blue buildings will rise grey in the light, the golden vertical tunnels will be but air. But still softly, we the feathered dreamers on our cooing ledges, we can ask,----How is it with you?----and we can listen.

    (Photo by Susan, Barcelona, 2011)
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