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   I have no proof of my own fear
   without these: the shoulders
   of the moose crossing our trail
   midday: deadly & indifferent
   to us & the neon cottonwoods
   shocking October. You
   seem already sad & I can't be
   trusted--I double what the recipe
   calls for when it comes to onions.
   I cry & cry & feel cleaned out.
   I have no proof
   without him, the man
   on the motorcycle who died
   within minutes of my father
   finding him on a back road
   in southern Ohio. After the wreck,
   against the fence. He's borrowed
   time before he says & now--
   Addison, eight pounds, is alive
   & thriving, one week new
   to this world in which two
   young boys, strangers,
   offer to help carry my couch & later
   in the same day, a man
   threatens to poison my dog.
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Author:Kramer, Ashley Seitz
Publication:Colorado Review: A Journal of Contemporary Literature
Article Type:Poem
Date:Jun 22, 2013
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