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Kristin Gilchrist

It’s Like The Nothing Never Was

 

At the shore, it’s hard
to imagine anyone mulching or leaves
already falling from the trees in your yard.
One minute there are so many tomatoes
the peppers find it hard to keep
up. It’s the asparagus
that doesn’t bother with the end
of summer. If all else fails
belly dancing will keep us
looking like we’re forty. Is this
the doorway to self-deception
or a doorway to new possibilities?

While we wait for death, heavy petting
on the Pentacrest between the rainbow
splashes of the fountain and the happy
stars on the grass will do. Some day
I think I’d like to own horses just like
I’d like to own an alcohol problem. Glamorous,
but without the acumen of a business
man expanding his temporal boundaries
to alleviate stress. That’s one option.
This year the cicadas came
out four years early but your plane
was late. Winter is never
late, and the shore goes on without you.



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