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dirt
by Spiel



Fern phoned long distance
around dusk


that piteous voice
said she could not bear
one more day on earth
without Amos


asked if Paul and I
would come
put her under the dirt.


I said
You know we canít do that


I had a sense of her
smoldering
like a lone campfire coal
abandoned in wilderness


regretting
it had not been doused
by the last human
occupant

and not a possible drop
of rain
in sight





 

 

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