I Remember
Opening a
Marked
Door
For you
You Walked
Through it,
And a word
Was carved
For you
A Sorrow
Great:
Where girls
Break
Like waves
Through
Cemetery trees
A Bird
Crying,
If you
Listen
A Little
Poem,
Trapped
In its beak
Old Things
Never loved
Enough
Keep It
Straight,
Keep her
Guessing,
Keep writing
About the
Door.
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