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By Danne Jobin

sleep alone in the woods

on a bed of rustling leaves

where no quiet lies –

you: displaced animal

with animal needs,

tiredness a blanket

full of holes.


one brief break in the cloud cover

and the moon tears into the tent

like a searching torch.

walk to the edge of the trees

a shadow upright among shadows:

luminescent daisies and the blue

hoot of the owl are gaps for you

to fall into.


in the morning you won’t

recognise this place.

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