radio muted by daytime holds
our breath until nightfall
when voice dream sames
its way through innocence
this partial childing
in the country
where fields sweeten
night in plainsong
darkness in which seeds
are given earth
as chosen repetition
that encloses sacred quiet
and coming syllables
as proof unfolds
what happens between thought
and energy within the flowers
and along the road
these whining tires
a mantra to the tired mind
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