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Jeanne Emrich
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Gods,
Ghosts and Smiling Stone
the mists this morning linger as if the gods who dreamed us have yet to awaken human-headed birds, bird-headed humans– how far I have traveled to find my dreams carved in stone cliff-dwelling– I hear the blood cries of thunderbirds, breathe the dust of Anasazi bones sun-dazzled we slather on Coppertone twice a day this is how we coax the gods to lie amongst us have you seen mankind's first steps in the fossilized mud? that was the day the gods became invisible the long wash of summer rain reveals my archeology– I am smiling stone
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