Recognitions
by Stephen Dobyns
The awful imbalance that occurs with age
when you suddenly see that more friends
have died, than remain alive. And at times
their memory seems so real that the latest
realization of a death can become a second,
smaller death. All those talks cut off in mid sentence.
All those plans tossed in the trash.
What can you do but sit out on the porch
when evening comes? The day’s last light
reddens the leaves of the copper beach.
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