After and Weary

Sentinel by Richard Reeve

Funny the ease these days

finding a place to spread

the blue and red native blanket-

idyls emerge effortlessly now.

Not so, when we were yet together.

Can it still be an idyll if empty,

without the leavening a couple supplies

passing a piece of torn baguette,

a slice of apple? Can dyadic absence

fulfill nature’s longing?

Let the chickadee and titmouse reign here.

This lot but another promise-

another solitary watch tonight-


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