morning sun lights the
mesa rim
daring me to fall upward
again
with all rising things
while down the valley
a twilight pillow of
snowfall
approaches
plunging cliffs and
cottonwoods
into watercolor softness
suspended
a wire fence can no longer
distinguish
between here and there
and the border falls
causing mice to sink
deeper
into each other
home
I watch in a glass room
and think
about paradox, my place
here
between.
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