On the Night of a Friend's WeddingElizabeth Robinson
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Are you surprised that I address you now, less alone, and years later? I do rate myself as doubly transplanted, then and today. Wait until you find out how I came to you, from a sod house sown with doors. Vows uttered and done from a frontier, in every instance. Eight years later I huddle in other promises. I might prate about a new border, oceanic, a true one which commands all attention. Tonight can we imagine jumping off recklessly, into the sea thatŐs come almost to our feet. All the while, keep in mind the plains, and me— so adrift without my coasts. I lack you, or not "you," but some sight of our old selves, playing hooky, skimming foam off the tide. ThatŐs how we should blend environs and vows now, utterly. |
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