Returning to Michigan
Flat and cold. The place you didn't
want to go. A covenant comes alive, leads you here:
a person, moment, event, you'd
rather go past the door than see.
All stories have to be made to fit their
own time.
The loon doesn't know anger and shame
yet the detail of her place makes you
sad. The hungry dove remains silent.
It remains still. It surely must yearn,
yet nothing burns in its chest.
How it longs to make the sound
of the loon in the lake,
a single peal lifting the frozen
air of what cannot be said.
© Grace Cavalieri, all rights reserved
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