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       # 2017-02-11 - 6000 ft. by Jessica Smith
       
 (IMG) Waldo lake
       
       I have come here to find
       the quiet
       like stacked tiles
       that clings to mountaintops
       and grows in fields
       
       There is a taste of nothing,
       the calming blankness of water,
       a cold fire hanging from my ribs
       
       The way small voices
       pike, marmot, columbine
       speak below our hearing
       and blend into a song,
       their descant
       a pool floating above my head
       The ripples are all I recognize
       
       tags: poem
       
       # Tags
       
 (DIR) poem