“Mine”

 

 

MINE

 

First it was as a soft brown spot
palpable, round, tender
I saw it in the dark –
mine.

Then, it was clear
it presented itself
when they died –
just walked through
the door and
stuck out its hand –
Hi, I’m Death, glad to meet you.
I didn’t realize it’s been visiting ever since –
mine.

A round potato on the floor
sitting beneath the table
where it rolled
I picked it up
Hi – don’t think we’ve met before
flesh firm and smooth in my grasp,
I put it on the counter –
alive in the silence,
the dead of night.

 

– Vermont, 3.14.18

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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