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Owl Calling In a Hollow Tree

An owl is calling from a hollow tree, It speaks holy and hollow, hollow and holy. The speech of sprit is any shell that can hold the breath of a ghost. The owl stops hooting as if listening, I know what it’s hearing, I want to hear what it hears but the holiness of the hollow is beyond my overstuffed-ness. Only those empty spaces in my lungs can both speak and listen. More often though words arrive too late to translate the holy, only the hollow.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2021




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Book: Shattered Sighs