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Wednesday, January 23, 2019

Serious Business

by Kate Rose

It’s difficult to wear the sun.
The crow knows.
I haven’t tasted your tiramisu.
Footnotes fade.
The engine hasn’t started
its pouting south –
ocean’s open mouth.

A destination like desire, or destiny –
an old, old place always new.

We must be who we are.

Only the sandy strand knows
how to vanish.

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