Wednesday, October 18, 2017

a poem by Jean Morris




City Not in America                    


                                               by Jean Morris

Remember how our lips felt?
We believed the moon too large
the bell church sang in alto


Remember how the river slivered?
We might have danced maybe
mist moist lay against us


Remember how glass broke into our eyes?
We tied a scarf around the
statue so it wouldn't tumble into the sea.


Call remember -- whisper remember.

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