Belated Love Poem

This is not
about dissecting bee
hives, celebrating dead
presidents (stacked or face

down), the last time
I saw grass grow
anywhere. This is

about the first time
we spoke and you made
a joke and the train jerked
to a full stop. It was the end

of the line,
and you and I
had just begun.

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3 thoughts on “Belated Love Poem

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