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The Shore Tries Again with the Water

Laura Goldin

Don’t you think 

I get tired 

of asking you to stay? 

 

That little trick 

you have:

appearing and 

disappearing –

 

the way you offer 

yourself,

leave again.

How Slowly

How slowly, after all, 

the world reveals itself.

 

Watching the light move, 

nothing left to say.

 

How much you wanted 

to grow old like this.

 

The long, still afternoons. 

Even the leaves at rest: 

 

the breeze, the curtain

barely lifting.

Harbinger

Early on, the signs 

were everywhere.  

Sometimes a bird 

call, sometimes 

a hint of cloud.

Now there is mostly 

silence. All day long,

the no-rain 

covers everything.

Laura Goldin is a publishing lawyer in New York.  Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Right Hand Pointing, One Art, Molecule: A Tiny Lit Mag, Driftwood, Club Plum, Blue Heron Review, The Spoon River Poetry Review, Bellevue Literary Review, and The Comstock Review.

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