The troposphere, the stratosphere,
The mesosphere, the thermosphere, More than that, the entire spillage Of the Milky Way, the sheer Cliff that takes away your breath, Every constellation, aurora Borealis, is understood Amidst the dunes of the Sahara, And from the jackals and the scorpions, A man looks at himself and sees Himself, and everything is crisp, Everything is broad, the Pyrenees, The sea of fog, the exosphere, The cosmic rays, the psychedelic Nebulae, the fervor in The soul, feathery, angelic, And you grow, and constellations, There are reflecting pools in Oases, it can be hard to tell Small from great, heart from skin.
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Yaacov David Shulman
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October 2019
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