Echoes
These echoes of you that rattle like teeth in winter through me Shoulders held up against the wind Feet planted in the grit and slush pushed aside by immovable plows forced along our street to clear a path Windswept views—the other echoes of you The sun is bright, raining down like light from dandelions spreading your perpetual good mood— seed pods I wish I could plant and grow to clear away the shadows that drown me Between the two I am tethered— a pig on a spit hanging over a fire turning slowly until I am done
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