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Along the St. Croix.


Come down again
to the edging shore
and find me.

Dress yourself in sweet grass,
in vestments of river reeds
and come find me.

Peel away my layers.
Let them fall, forgotten.
Reveal me.

Then fold me,
naked in your strong arms
and lean me back.

Wash over me
like a slow August river
and soothe my skin.

Baptize me in these waters,
in the ultramarine of your eyes,
so that I may be reborn
into trust.


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