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100 PATRICK PRITCHETT IN THE VALLEY OF ST. VRAIN So that if the void is diamond then the world is great it fits inside this body & the slightest gesture trembles to the horizon “Ah! non credea mirarti” pure lament inside the soul of motion Mandelshtam on fire moving down the river Kama “burning like a black candle” that cannot pray only cover this name in soot & silence The white shack across the street sinks in winter light resides as a feather resides 101 astride the wind or never but not to be blown back For the body is diamond & void not the place for the soul but the soul itself respiring the porous shape & shadow of it hallowing the decree to breathe It is how each abides morning into evening the long lake we push across on the blueness of prayer on fire 102 PATRICK PRITCHETT IN A SOMER SESON Of fire to fire renew summer the fall of light and season of mortal dews. Overall the evening set of moon August high in the trees equatorial burn. Grass under green water & cycle of song in circle renew fire of summer to summon Or signal the fade of the long moon that burns. Orbit of fire alive under green water too. ...

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