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New Year’s Day, 2005 by Linda Simone (Five days after the tsunami) Hedges edged in white lights. Tree at the curb like a homeless man. Sparrows’ song and 60 degrees fool trees to bud, me to walk in sleeves – but not squirrels who know. Remains from the last year: wreaths on doors, a hillock of empty boxes. On pavement, wreath of vomit, half bottle of beer. Everything exactly as we left them. © Linda Simone « Home | Contributor Notes » Please comment on this poem. |
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