Poetry Annual 1998 O Y S T E R   B O Y   R E V I E W   [ 8 ]
  P O E M   / 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 /
M. A. Roberts
W H E R E   W E   S T A N D
Sounding
          not so sweet     the blue bird
mocks our bickering
                    The weeping tree
          lithe

The porch even seems hunkered down
with our weight     June apples

we were too lazy to protect
                                        rot on
bird-pecked
                    eaten thru     The worms
are gone
          but holes remain     and a dying

The yard is all you see     It is October
          where
                    we
      stand

 
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