We talk about the weather, about the sky
How it turns upon us as we turn
upon each other, how it burns
to see the birds dead in gravel, try
not to see the weeds in the grass
to lean back and just see green
and let the sun take us, how we preen
each other, refuse the metaphoric task
that demands we see ourselves in nature
that demands a sign and portent here
and how we hold our proud stature
even when it hurts to stand, to bear
the weight of metaphor, the force of earth
that demands we know more of us and more
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