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Tom
Blessing
Julie is
here
in my imaginary universe
where the walls are all made
of Jacobsville sandstone
and the trees speak to me
with human gestures
she is where the sun
is honest and rescues even
the worst sinner - who asks
"why?" and the sun answers
"because'
she stands in the bitter winds
and stunted trees at the summit
of Brockway Mountain
watching a ore boat cut the
whitecaps on Superior
the lake is gray, the sky is gray
the horizon is anybody's guess
buddhas in revolt race about
her feet arguing the dharma
coffee appears and disappears
in the raven's dreams of her
where do I go but here?
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