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The Auroras of Autumn

Rating: 4.0

This is where the serpent lives, the bodiless.
His head is air. Beneath his tip at night
Eyes open and fix on us in every sky.

Or is this another wriggling out of the egg,
Another image at the end of the cave,
Another bodiless for the body's slough?

This is where the serpent lives. This is his nest,
These fields, these hills, these tinted distances,

And the pines above and along and beside the sea.
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
alexis kyriak 15 June 2018

I had thought that prophecy was dead, . that no one looks up any more.....his inward being is in the cosmos suspended on earth......the meeting place of all three....I can now understand the man of today, and hope.

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