Tuesday, September 6, 2011


Remember your madness. You left to survive
the white birch, the gray rain, the cool slopes.
Remember your wedding to the fat maple tree, how it pressed
to your naked flesh that resplendent fall.
Girls you once loved but couldn't tell, swell in its rough bark.
Uncaught fish are memories in a dark hallway called gone.
A self-addressed stamped envelope won't help.
Forgive this lack of correspondence, its rising cost.


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