Monday, October 10, 2011

"Valley Forge" by Amelia Robertson

a hiIl was never happier than

living in your house after the war

stopped being news and

went on quietly between us

wearing large sweaters

borrowed from the floor

motionless, momentum-less

knowing there was nothing left--

still we were toeing the outskirts

putting a nose in to find, curious

--sweet wintered peace.

hymns across the no man's land

of house, empty

locus for the passing through

conditions right

to move among

it was not nothing.

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