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No Wind


Without the trees
Without the knocking slates
No quick ocarina
In the holy roof above
No cracking boards
Below
Without the lack
Of bird calls carried off
Without the migraine
Pillowed against the pane
No tongue of ice
Licking the knuckle hairs
Without the secret
Curtain calls between
The day and the night
No absent fear
Of the earth blown away
Without the ghost walk
On the landing below
Without the flick of night

© David Incoll 2001


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Copyright by David Incoll 2001