Blackbirdan online journal of literature and the artsSpring 2017  Vol. 16 No. 1
an online journal of literature and the arts
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Bruised Forest

Among evergreens newlyweds
wander, sweet william
and maidenhair at their feet.

You are alone.
You are always alone.
Friends’ homes are “Daddy!”
and the drumroll of tiny feet,
yours your arthritic cat’s limp
and the AC’s hum.
Couples haunt you—
at the Strand, on the 1 train,
at eggnog jams, on this trail in Maine.

The bruised forest drips red leaves.
Kingbirds stud the ridgepole. The stream
is twelve thousand translucent trout.
You are alone. And no one is coming to save you.  

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