An Etching
by Richard Zaner

I am not yet moved nor will I be
by rhythms or rhymes or mountains moving
______in California —
______ ______one still spot in an otherwise momentous flux
______I stay etched, touching here and there
______ ______a softened bone, a cradled wound,
______not sore but bleeding with the cadences of the
______ ______moon and I feel my own pulse and
______ ______wonder fleetingly about the mood of moles:
______where they go and why in midnight wanderings,
______ ______in mud embalmed, emboldened
______ ______to find the dawn that I can close my eyes upon.

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