Mudlark No. 42 (2011)


A man in a red robe bends 
by a lake to fill cupped hands 
and drink from the white mirror; 
a salmon egg and slate butterfly 
slices through the foreground. 
No matter the expanse 
on which I meditate, 
I cannot shed your pale shoulders.

Nathaniel Vincent Mohatt | Mudlark No. 42 (2011)
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