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Grey Sparrow Journal

Issue 30, July 31, 2017
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A Story Getting Old




There is only one path

leading to my house and I am caught

upon it, the brambles tearing my pants.


The sky has its filter in place.

Each change in shadow anticipates

a subtraction of darkness.


Sometimes waiting for the line

is too long to wait. Sometimes

waiting for the morning’s set


is too long to wait. 

When the Beloved lived here

I kept the way clear for her. 

It helps me not to know that.


             -Ian Randall Wilson