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I sometimes think of you
in the lush hot green of summer
when mimosas bloom and magnolias flower
and the steaming iron of sun
that pressed us close to ground, suffocated
by the smell of gardenias and earth.
I sometimes think of you
in the drear cold gray of winter
when the wind moans under the eaves
and clacks the hollow bones of trees together
icicles shattering like broken glass
or a broken heart. I remember and think of you.
Susil, May '08
