Poetry and Prose from the Center for Writers
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by ALICE DOYLE
Untitled Ode to Getting Over It
It is a planet, unspeakable. It
is a box still packed and left
in the trunk of your car for a year,
two years. Indefinitely.
It is four hours in perfect silence.
It is my mother. It is my mother
understanding me and not,
it is my mother on her birthday
after two glasses of whatever wine
is sweetest. It is a debt.
It is a debt I can afford to pay
but don't. Not yet.
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