Alone

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When I feel most alone, no matter

if life and love remain all around,

when body and mind are too much,

I need to leave the bread at the table,

go out and walk the orchard or the lake,
find the star, the moon, or the last loaf of sun.

Nothing there, nothing
between me and the Scotch pine,

nothing between me and loss,
no bridge across the distance,

only the dissolving heart, alive, the way

the sun sinks slowly, without a body, everywhere,

and try not to be afraid.

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