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Poems, musings and photographs from the surrounds of the Salish Sea.
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Senseless
We must have lost our ears to hear
such sounds and wake up
another day
saying the same words as the day before
while somehow [and also] misplacing our eyes
which are, to be fair, borrowed and used
to the dark by now.
Our senses make no sense to us;
this current state
has turned
its back on our former state
when we lived within the generous benefit
of our doubts; when [even then] we
could crush our brokenness into brilliance.