The Wood Between the Worlds
Across the sweet sanguine sea
lit crimson by the setting sun
the canoe beached on the further shore
bark, as where its owner'd dragged it in
the endless plain of fissured wood
stretched on
she took a drink, shouldered pack
and kept the sun at her left shoulder
Yggdrasil must have its end
Sunday, December 13, 2020
121320b
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