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To Poet Suzanne Bailie

POETIC INSPIRATION The Highway Man by Alfred Noyes.
HOME TASTES LIKE Chicken and dumplings, or buttermilk pancakes.
HOME SMELLS LIKE My dad’s leather shoes in the front hall closet.

Refrigerator Door

Home is where the heart is.
Really?
Hearts, in jars, on a glass shelf.
Gross.
Hearts, on tattooed arms with bloody drips?
Uh no.
Hearts, by teenagers, their folded fingers and palms touching?
As if.
Hearts, drawn in purple crayon on paper, taped to the refrigerator door?
Yep, like that.

Refrigerator Door

Home is where the heart is.
Really?
Hearts, in jars, on a glass shelf.
Gross.
Hearts, on tattooed arms with bloody drips?
Uh no.
Hearts, by teenagers, their folded fingers and palms touching?
As if.
Hearts, drawn in purple crayon on paper, taped to the refrigerator door?
Yep, like that.

Suzanne Bailie, 51

Seattle

 
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