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Poetry
Speculative
He tosses aside the rusty shopping cart,
catching his foot on overgrown vines
and searches where he left her
behind the tumbledown apartments
and broken bricks
which once presumed to be his home
She is there,
supported by three trees,
her wood cracked and beaten,
yet willing to support the weight of a man
His hands grasp the toy ladder, sliding,
but she pulls him upward into her hearth
He sits in the warmth of her leafy cloak and waits
not an hour, not a day, or a year, but eons
while the universe remembers him,
then remembers to forget him,
always spinning, finally delivering
his next chance to get things right
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Copyright 2007, Karen A. Romanko. All rights reserved.
Contents
Dragons, Knights, & Angels ISSN 1558-9803
Copyright© 2005 Double-Edged Publishing. All rights reserved.
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