Corner Strung

Somehow your thinning lines
respanning wall to ceiling
have taken us from mournful
Canada to distant Robin
warble; have caught me
just above deepest abyss.
I crack a window
to feed you shrinking away
from my breath. a cool breeze,
steam flutter through
your decagonal orb
I can’t believe you’ve held
on this long with
brood now stirring aside
as you set out to repair,
once again, your corner, strung.

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