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Like footprints paved in the snow in the driveway coat- ed by fresh blankets of white descending snow flakes in the morning, I know they are still there. Like the trees bright with vibrant leaves fall- en by winter and flowers kissed by butterflies replaced with dull grass, I know they still bloomed there. Like unexpected, unprotect- ed surprises grow; I will never forget the sensation of cold gel on my still flat tummy or the clasp around my pan- creas, six more weeks of winter, it rains bloody red. Saturday. Life. Gone but I know. I remember. This was supposed to be a tanka but I have never been good at obey- ing the rules. I have not been good with losing you. Intentional, counting syll- ables, words stuck in Saturday, I touch my bel- ly, remembering you exist- ed here

Copyright © | Year Posted 2016

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