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Autumn Child

This autumn child’s mountain lungs

open to the morning chill,

clear as when these cold peaks still were growing;

her mountain bones are strong as were

these great stones in their youth.

The sutures of her skull are soft,

to let in autumn light;

the plates that form her skull will shift

with the growth of autumn thoughts,

as she learns to walk the trembling soil

of a world on shifting plates.

These stone muscles run deep into the ground,

they have weathered rain and sun and snow;

they have seen the vast clear night

And soaked in all the starry light

that shines as it did above the elders.

but these mountains now are growing old;

they will be taken by the sea.

And the autumn child’s children’s breath

will crest and fall in ocean rhythms

upon the rolling waves.

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