Tuesday, November 10, 2009

November 10

(for Sam on his birthday)

Thirteen years ago I carried you
over the miracle waters.

We feasted on milk and honey and promises.

You whispered your name
in a language too ancient to write.

For a moment, our world was golden.

Later you said we would always be
together like apples in pie--

apples with bitterness tempered
by that sweet golden crust.

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