Blackbirdan online journal of literature and the artsFall 2015  Vol. 14 No. 2
an online journal of literature and the arts
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Fear of Stones and Air

So it has come to pass and not to pass.
I will have no child with the woman I love.
No want, no wish, no fault, nor purpose.
What to do with these amazing mountains
of emptiness but put them in my pocket
like small, smooth stones and walk alone
to the river. Once at the midpoint of the bridge,
I will pull them out to drop them one by one.
To release them from the pinch of my okay.
To lean out over the rail and see how the wind
and the motion below will bend their paths.
To listen for their sound and only imagine
I hear the plunge and splash
and feel the waters rolling each into its bed.
Their weight I shall know by what is lessened
from my hand, from my person, by what
goes missing there. A life turned into air.  end  

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