I walk through my life as though I were a bookmark, a holder of place,
An overnight interruption
in somebody else's narrative.
What is it that causes this?
What is it that pulls my feet down, and keeps on keeping my eyes
fixed to the ground?
Whatever the answer, it will start
the wolf pack down from the mountain,
The raven down from the tree.
from Nine-Panel Yaak River Screen
Charles Wright
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