THE MASK
The walrus ivory is stained dark
from long burial in the earth.
It will never be white again.
The animal face catalyzes
spirits deep within us.
Shadows come alive,
and a night-veiled girl
dances in a circle of light.
Like smoke above a fire,
she sways and dissolves.
Wisdom is in the knot
threaded through the mask,
the braided tassel trembling
on its own, without a touch
of hand or air.
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