the threaded thoughts theory- so many gretel

crumbs tastelessly wasted on lost pathways

in the dusk. before they arrive they are off in

directions no maps have claimed: a mountain

here, an ocean there; my backyard speckled

with owls a-resting atop totems. no screeches

and silent eyes. the dead look and see more

than you with your wide awake pins that point

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