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147 BLAZE Last season’s snow’s slipped back into sky. Red willow branches broken by browsing moose calves’ golden blond gambol splay, unravel. Frayed filaments nipped then swallowed travel now, transformed, gangly moose muscle. Bog weeds soon to be fast under ice ripple, sway. Our flesh past its prime, unsteady, quickens. Blue blaze— beyond any map. More than one lifetime ’s gash, white bark barked, love’s deep continent not yet surveyed. One breath, two. Fresh snow in the air, not fallen. ...

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