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Today's poem is by Olena Kalytiak Davis

in the clear long after
       

Spring is cheap, but clean of sky. Long after she used to
meet him on the sly. He didn't say much, because to
speak you need a voice, need lead. Among the dead there were
such fresh ghosts, they were still breathing. Through their
mouths. Time, time, to adjust to an other. An ether
O so—No—too sweet. Intox-icated with permeability. 'Tis nox¬≠
ious, to eat evanescence. However steadily, however slowly.
They stemmed into heady blows.
They missed
the stain. Of blue berries and argument. They missed
their lips. The yew and the thorns. They missed.
Their flaws.

O, to be stung by an errant bee. O, to sting.
O, to see you again. Covered in spring.



Copyright © 2015 Olena Kalytiak Davis All rights reserved
from shattered sonnets love cards and other back handed importunities
Copper Canyon Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission

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