Dear Mae
Dear Mae
And the sun too docks
Beyond the water, she
Recedes, sometimes neatly,
Sometimes kaleidoscopically, &
Always, have faith,
Briefly.
Last year’s hydrangeas, see how
Last year’s hydrangeas, see how they sit yet with their full heads and measure themselves against these February melancholies together with their self- preservations to absorb nothing of winter and its required privations. See how they still cling to their own twig and branch and root, their moss and sod, how they rely on the falling away ...
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