A sparrow turns in air, shoots skyward,
a black dart on blue, the fulcrum of the
world in that moment before it all swirls
away, shifts direction and lights on
an ephemera anew.
There's a crack in the world at dusk
and at dawn where some creatures enter and
exit. They are the ones you listen for,
lying in the dark, but strain your hearing
as you might, can never be made out.
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