by Laurinda Lind


Shorn of winter you sleep, ill-
fitting, spent in your chair & soft
like the space behind your eyes:

lost. I’ve kept part of your
life, which will be lucky to lodge
below my lung since it’s still too

loose to roost. I’m exhausted
like you. Edges want to reach, but
where will they meet, & meantime

silence is a soil saving
what it wants in the dark.
Its deep insistent sugar.


Laurinda Lind
lives in the U.S. in New York, close by Canada. Poems have appeared in Anomaly Literary Journal, Sonic Boom, and Spillway; also anthologies Visiting Bob: Poems Inspired by the Life and Work of Bob Dylan (New Rivers) and AFTERMATH (Radix). She is a Best of the Net nominee.


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