Arsenic Lobster poetry journal |
Issue Thirty-six Winter 2014 |
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Combinations and Permutations Deborah Gang When winter settles in you will lose one glove and then find it. Then not know where you put its mate. You memorize some rules: don’t leave gloves on your lap. Don’t take them off in the car. Think before departing anywhere but home. Still, you will lose your favorite pair and find only half, six days later, slightly snow damp and lightly chewed. The other waits until next thaw, exposed, still shaped as if to warm a hand. You replace these ruins and find you like the new ones better. You will lose them. Your least favored pair, promoted, refuses dislocation. You are careless yet each hand is loyal. How can you buy anything new when these are serviceable and present? Love and risk are knit like last year’s missing cashmere. Before the long winter is spent the many possibilities of loss will find you. |
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