May
the purification has started
the trees are plump with the sky’s liquor
and the clouds they roll
like dough -
fluffy but dark as licorice
“spring has sprung”
the old lady tells me
sitting in her walker,
suddenly turned chair
“Can you see the sleeping bear?”
It is a cliff on a mountain in the distance,
she points to it,
it is familiar
and I realize
I’ll never see it
the same way again
5/2009
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