--Jeffrey BeanLet sky's soft crush come in sleep.Let squirrels huddle, clouds shine. Pleasea white-fresh fire. Please a kid's feast, her mouthstuffed with ice-ash, enlivened. May stoplightsflame across miles. May salt splash, trucksgrumble. Let gray moths tremble,dogs wallow and shove. Please smooth a field'sface. Let shovel, let curse, let birdshunch over wires and pines. Bring a lustrousseason of bones. Let the old mentake down their parchment and pens. Let mummy clothgrip what is gone. Please a museumof smoke, a hall of rooftops. Make me and the treesforget what we have lost, put onour silver clothes in stillness, our skin shining,our rushing done. Let the ground be the sun.
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