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To Poet Rebecca Loudon

HOME TASTES LIKE Fresh baked bread.
ON MY FRIDGE My boarding pass to Boston last February.
A FAVORITE BUS MEMORY I wrote my first novel in yellow lined notebooks while taking the express line to Boeing every day for three years.

Morning brought wetsuits draped like soft skins across the rhododendrons

Gone are my forbidden Saturday Cheerios,
cartoons, lazy lounging in pajamas, in bed.
Surfboards propped against the garage
signal get up! get up!

Oh wild children, have you returned to vex me?
Did menacing thunderheads drive you
from the rocky shores of La Push?
Did a shark spit you out?

Morning brought wetsuits draped like soft skins across the rhododendrons

Gone are my forbidden Saturday Cheerios,
cartoons, lazy lounging in pajamas, in bed.
Surfboards propped against the garage
signal get up! get up!

Oh wild children, have you returned to vex me?
Did menacing thunderheads drive you
from the rocky shores of La Push?
Did a shark spit you out?

Rebecca Loudon, 61

Seattle

 
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