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Samuel Gilpin


               wet leaves stuck to pavement
                              honeysuckle and ragwort and wild carrot
               the wind violent against metallic chime
                              dividing lines of sight
               where sky meets horizon

                              Thoreau: nothing in nature makes sense

               translation of the slow light
                              into dusk
               blue shadows lingering
                              even though you cannot


               you know the difference
between abundance
               and emergence

               fragments growing daily one at a time
impelling sensations
               in the openings of space where the mind resists

               multi layered stratus
               diminishing into perspective
                              huge and primitive


                                                            gray sheeting rain
                                                                           in migration
               your being’s but a light touch
               slow the soft decay of absence

Samuel Gilpin

Samuel Gilpin is a poet originally from Portland, OR, living in Las Vegas, NV, as a Black Mountain Institute Ph.D. Fellow in Poetry at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas. A Prism Review Poetry Contest winner, he is currently serving as the Poetry Editor of Witness Magazine and Book Review Editor of Interim. A Cleaveland State University First Book Award finalist, his work has appeared in various journals and magazines, most recently in The Bombay Gin, Omniverse, and Colorado Review.

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