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Poem

July 6, 2020

How It Goes

 

They sit placenta-of-new-day eating

Night's stiletto digging its heel into mornings

The part of day which all backward momentum

Moves forward forever visibly

Playing to win out.

 

Right away beginnings of greening wilting 

As a day is groped by the first

And the final hour, the longest curving 

As a doorway, a stranger

Time bleeds out from.

 

Still they clink two snifters they hold

Their shirts stained with their underneath

Where there's a heart rummaging in the darkness, daily

Blood's repairing hidden fractures, flowers bloom

You see? They do.

 

They're tired but keep watch and live

Of every hour however laughing 

At the barge sinking, sunset floats seeing

This is a promise not a joke.

The hour arrives one day they know

Just like that

A train comes and then it passes. 

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