chasing light
entering shadow
more rises in the non-scape
than the known-scape.
strings become ropes become chains,
careful what you attach to
you’ll have to drag it alone.
if image and sound, sensation, scent
and a sip of watermelon juice with lime and mint
aren’t plenty,
how heavy we all become.
time’s short,
selling freedom and wild soul, long.
with camera, notebook and #2 pencil
these steps brighten.
heart finds nourishment in embodied moments.
body is, through it all, home.

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