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Pond
The lazy center
The lazy center is a green neither
sharp nor fading, reminding
not of before nor after.
Picture the waterweeds have always been this high.
This July fable, forever
verdant and felt. For once
a war has not been sighted,
is not negotiating the daily toll.
Come home is not a letter home.
The dock is weathered but from what weather?
The velvet moss
but when did it grow?
Perfection will disallow memory. Take your pick,
the mind is full of ponds.
I wore the dock smooth just by imagining
summer. Close your eyes
and see the same still water
warming in the sun as when they are open.
Gabriella Klein, from Land Sparing (Nightboat Books 2015)