Conceit
1
Water-
falling leaves. A silver birch
stirs. And
the child
inside
me.
Dressed for another
century, I bend to caress
this river:
it absorbs
me.
Going
after the half-known I
swallow
my
shadow.
2
The suicide’s apologetic
smile, her lover
a literary
device, a relative
clause in
the complex sentence of
her will, his intent
eyes clear as the watercourse
that washed
her clean
away, a
withered leaf.
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