Who…? — A Poem

“Rudbeckia” — C.Birde, 8/20

Who are we?

We are who we are.

Amorphous collective

stripped down

to bared teeth & bones.

Subjective “known”

transforming

over months

weeks

night.

Facades peeled &

pared & rendered

unrecognizable.

Who are we?

I know not

myself.

I know

myself

not.

— C.Birde, 8/20

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