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With the Mover Small acts are everything moving sideways, we displace the sun but to not move at all could be an action more significant than just conceding gravity its pull The greatest action might be simply standing still But Spring won't come until the sparrow sings grass is not impotent, dust engages gusts of wind The lobster knows exactly when to wake, to track the sand, to rearrange the world You and I we patter back and forth not knowing what we crush with every step what organisms die within our tears or what our songs might mean to passing wings |
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