A matter of clearing, a single sound
A vast journey in space, a wedding.
Its sound journeys to my eager ears
A locus in a space graph of listening.
A soundless night makes it possible.
Geographer’s poem is very journey,
A moving away of a chunk of space
Or invisible space vastly stretching.

The wedding is space of a drumbeat,
A clearing in jungle of night’s silence
Some humans make wedding sounds.
Sleeping dogs are making no clearing
And no patrolmen sticktap this night.
Our space enters here,in the window.
Curtains are mute spectators to wind
And trees carry space back and forth.

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