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ideas for a new earth

  • Abigail Wilson

a poem: advection

sedge sways windways, its flowers drop and blow

swallows wallow, swooping windward, to where the bluestem grows.

the city inside is burning, is burning, and i alone am turning

to find the one who knows.


What destructions feed your new becomings?

What symbols do you see in the world around you, pointing to transformation?

Where is wellbeing? Where is truth?


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