unburnt bush II
faltering and giving out, the trail
downwanders
to an unknown ledge
beneath an overhang with a cavernous slit
an opening long and narrow and deep
lips covered in black feathers.
not deathsign vulture feathers but crow's
the old and new fears of the dark feminine
rise but
the delight of being explored and revered
moves me farther down the opening
i do not enter but far above
in the rock a pair of pussywillows sprout
newleaf green and pollen yellow like antlers
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