Julia Watson: Things That Last To 15

An angleworm, a chicken, a fox

                                    in good health. Pink peonies, latched

roots on an iron gate. The poison

               of monkshood in frost. A Lenten

rose, a red car: its idle hum. 

               Crabapples and its tree. Outside

the first home, Arnie,

               the first dog, sleeps alone.

The gap between the couple’s

               age. The crack of pavement

beyond the gate—a dried and set

               wound. There are bags within

the car: bent pictures, rust pots,

               a white dress torn to bits.






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