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What The Sea Inside Remembers
(Found Poem, based on the thirty-five
titles of Li-Young Lee's Book of My Nights)
by William Scott Galasso

I hurry towards beginning, heir to all discrepancies,
happy and sad. I am restless, sleepless on a pillow
in my father's house, the eternal son dwelling
between echo and shadow. The moon from any
window mirrors night in the well. From another room,
the little father sings a lullaby of nativity to the round
one in his crib. In other hours the buried heart,
emerging from degrees of blue rejects the words
for worry to praise them. While I rise from
the hammock at the sound of a dove…a dove,
I said, whose song fills and falls between silence,
where I take tea and sniff black petals of a rose
on a table in the wilderness. In the distance
lies a bridge and a river now composed of light
flows to stations of the sea in a dream I build by
flying, as I did long ago as it was, in the beginning.

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