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After MAG
(for saba)
Days pass on like sunsets:
Few drenched and dripping
In beauty,
Most of them cloudy and blank.
Memories fade like jackets:
Details falling and being replaced
Like chipped buttons,
Stitched into something new.
People enter like guest stars on a TV show:
Their presence swept away with disregard
Until they exit stage right, leaving behind whispers of goodbye
And all is normal, as if they never appeared at all.
Food piles up like an avalanche:
Meatloaves and casseroles and cherry pies
As if they are supposed to be miracles,
And cure.
Prayers are recited like waterfalls:
Each syllable falling over the last
Competing in a hurried dash to reach
your ears
And numbly recite verses of angels being lifted to Heaven.
Death watches from behind the bushes:
Making sure that everyone knows she’s boss
That everyone remembers she sits
on the throne
That everyone remembers how quickly
she can strike.
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