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Comments about Joel Doran
The tired autumn light falls like rust upon your motionless eyes
These same eyes that have gathered the sunlight for 250 million years
Your history can be measured by the stars
Red giants born, burned up and blown into stellar ashes
Mountains lifted, worn away to roots and raised again
Yet your eyes remained
Moving as the waves do
Rushing up the rubble of long ago mountains
Not to reshape but to recreate the shape that has existed
Since waves found their shore
Blood - pure, cold and blue as the seas of your birth
Flows in your eyes so that we can see ...