A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature
No chance to deface erase retrace no no
Chance to catch to recatch to
Snatch out of nothing the something
You mended defended tried to unfriend
And it won’t leave it cleaves
Like a lover a mother or some other
Self never fed like a sonnet born dead
There, in your care, a sin, a snare
Copyright 2017 Dawn Potter
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