Poetry and Steer: On Looking for What’s Missing Behind Fences

 

I looked for you

yesterday in

the grey-brown geese,

in the plush steer

wandering back

and forth and back

unafraid or

unaware of

his grey-brown fence.

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I looked for signs

of your leaving

or your blessing

that I will be

born and dead be-

fore you were born.

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