Glacier
A hope
that someday I shall sprout
like a tree
on the edge of a remote hillside.
A hope
someday a Queen-of-the-Night
shall bloom in my chest
and suck all the smoke
I have inhaled
in these malignant cities.
A hope that someday
a just born brook shall clean
and wash
bacteria of greed in me.
A hope that someday
a Buddha meditating in the niche of a cairn
by the heap of the city
garbage shall shake his limbs
and walk away towards a village of eternity
to take another birth
to save me
from the shame of becoming a glacier.
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