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When I sleep

follow the path uphill
past the fallen log spread with witches' butter
count sixteen clumps of Indian pipes
(part the pine needles to see them full and fleshed)

bend close but do not touch
Trillium nor Amanita
(destroying angel: fine frilled collar, stark white
cap)

settle in the small clearing
where a single yellow lady slipper blooms
(among a dozen pink)