To travel the world explicit
in its fault and fold.

To enter the background
as each thought discards itself:

pine-needles to the tree-line,
scree beyond.

To move small, sleep low
and dream new depths

of emptiness and order.
To be troubled by neither.

The loosening air
concentrates your blood

and your heart has the simple grip
of speedwell or gentian.

You forget what it is
to elaborate or qualify.

You breathe
white against white sky.

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