We've looked for that fabled 
plant of many colors, the bird 

whose song grows a canopy of grace
over the blighted land. We've pushed

our stone-heavy hearts into the wood,
afraid to return without remedy,

without salve. We would lie 
down with each other if we knew 

we could send strong 
new roots into the earth.

We would cup foam from the water
if we knew how love could leaf

beneath a reed-brittle trellis. Spell
into my palm the key that was thrown 

away and then found. Tip into my throat 
the dewdrop which shows us how some 

things we thought lost were simply 
cloaked in temporary disrepair.

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