the flap of startled cardinals sound to Kalin like applause,
tuned to great ovation
in a daydream snow mirage,
while she's out in the fallen snow
stringing footprint pearls, I’ve read
somewhere an amaranth is
either boy or girl.
blood clots over snow, hiding lamb's eyes
from a crow, mistral throes in tangled hair,
face down in her tremors
breathing ice instead of air.
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