The ravens fly
Winged and unsmiling
To a land
Cut from history.

The likes
Of you and I
Make way to another side
Of a moon
A sad wink away from darkness.

The grass underfoot
Groans with these steps
If we fall it
Catches us and we just wheeze.

This present
Is a mountain top
That bleeds ice to land below
We are sustained
And yet our memories are shy to qualm.

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