The 2River View | 28.1 (Fall 2023) |
Susan Melinda Moree california light rained good-bye, in the midst of it all on the other side of the sky you gave life twice— once, you know how does it feel when you feel nothing when you feel empty when you learn that a lover long dead to you died too young, too soon; how do you feel then? how do you feel when you note that he had no survivors, no wife, no long-time girlfriend who wrote his obituary who wrote him lyrics who wrote him a missive with a key who dropped petals on his grave, no children who cried when he lay cold, unable to decipher the logos, merely a carcass in a park on a bench in a town in the middle of the mid-west. how do you feel when you know how you cried when he said he’d gotten off the bus to say good-bye to say he didn’t love you, to say you were no body and no-thing and not one for him, there could be no future, no butterflies no wedding bands and now when you think on him you know you are who you are because of who he was because he turned you into refuse, into a half-eaten ham sandwich he had to throw away while he turned into something great and mad.
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Susan Melinda Moree has published in New Mexico Poetry Anthology and elsewhere. Her awards include a grant from New Mexico Writers and support from the Montana Arts Council. | |
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