Whoever wants me now must hunt me down
like something wild, and wild is anything
beyond the reach of purpose not its own.
Wild is anything that’s not at home
in something else’s place…
–Wendell Berry, from A Timbered Choir
Today, this wind my home
Today, this lucid sky
Today, I own nothing–
am owed
nothing. Today
only
throatsong, eyesong, brimming
wind, lucid sky
today
no name, no face, no
story
today–
wild
wild
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