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Putting a Burden Down
Putting a burden down feels so empty
you almost want to hoist it up again,
for to carry nothing means there is no “me”

almost. Then freedom, like air, creeps in
as into a nearly airtight house, estranging
you and your burden, making a breach to leap in,

changing an airless place into a landscape,
an outdoors so full of air it leaves you breathless,
there’s so much to breathe. Now you escape

what you didn’t even know had held you.
It’s so big, the outside? How will you ever carry it?
No, no, no, you are only meant to live in it.

This wide plain infused with a sunset? Here?
With distant mountains and a glittering sea?
With distant burdens and a glittering “me,” here.