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and the tree seemed friendly enough. Comforting— as if it wanted to reach down with its many arms and hold her as the night went from twilight to midnight.
past yellow windows,
cheeks and noses red and numb
and tightened from the frozen air.
Choices
by Gary Beaumier
I should have been a student of the sky
to watch squadrons of geese make passage
beneath low autumn clouds.
Stars could lift my heart as I hold forth with
astronomical terms like “nebula” or “quasar”
and,
while in a hammock,
held in broad trees, I'll know
branches are emissaries
to other realms,
where the moons overpower reason.
I could acquaint myself
with the retired
who fish along the quay
and see their days in total
and find their peace
in the lap and lull of the water,
speaking just to quietly ask
“Are they biting today?”
I should have studied
the nomenclature of the old
and listened to their lamentations
--- bad hearts and sad memories --
just to know that some will still come to ask,
“Was this not heaven?”
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Taiya River, Alaska