Parading

You wake and the candles are lit as if by themselves,

stars gather, dreams pour into your pillows,
stars gather, dreams pour into your pillows,
sending up warm bouquets of air.
sending up warm bouquets of air.
Even this late the bones of the body shine
Even this late the bones of the body shine
and tomorrow’s dust flares into breath.—Mark Strand
and tomorrow’s dust flares into breath
—Mark Strand

atoms

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