CATHARSIS

Some reason we
believe

moves and dangles
beyond dry leaves
clinging

into the new year,
this side of the Kaweahs
baring granite teeth—

some logic yet
to focus clearly,
every soul hungry

hunting something
to fill their bellies.
An urgency

in fragile air before
the haze and dust—
a quickening

to our plodding
like old horses
headed home.

What star has fallen
from dark heavens, what
holds the clouds back?

Some reason we
remain to see.

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