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There is a forest and you should linger.
The sun is bright and I am a forest,

river, creature of moving parts. Offer
me green sap, gold leaf, say the word, “August.”

I give myself to you freely. Queerest
things happen in forests. Do you

know that? I’m the August witch of harvest,
tempests, sky dust. In my green kingdoms, blue

scars, stone runes – I love you all. Wait for me.
Will you do that? Walking and talking through

winter, will you wait for me? I stumble
along, I look everywhere. You must be

here. You who will wait for me. You who
are a memory lost in this dazzle.