November 2, 2023

Hospice (love poem)

Out North Mountain where I walked to avoid you

A light frost accumulated overnight

I need you in your moist and droughted versions

An erotic urge at the level of soil

We call each unit of poetry a line

Stumbling what I always thought of as forward

Rain when it comes glistens the webbed opening

Enter the acequia — old, disused

A new life, new place, new work will redeem me

Adobe walls buckled with water damage

Nothing in the end to keep me away, then —

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A Journal of International Poetry
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