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Eryn Green

Bones

 

I want to re-call this house with pebbles

from the ground—honestly, beautiful enough—little round dream of

thirty years—a winter’s hat—                 no sound when you call—expecting

love to be love—/ disappointed until not—/ grapes peeling, body whispering

yr impossible—me too—a diver’s chute

failing—again, falling—into a church

parking lotradio blaring // under water—soft

white freight trains—deep

                                          light—choked on snow,

scenery—cheer up dear, it wasn’t always so bad

for me—rain knocked out power lines—

you wrote mountains                  across my tired back

in sheets as still and as whole as              white sails of straw air—

couples carrying umbrellas            inside-out—wind blowing boats

over scattered arrows of frozen wheat

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