for Dolly Palisada
Don’t hold this poem as you would
a goblet,
with your fingers twirled
about its stem,
harmonising the dark ball
of it shuffles
from your mouth -
carry it like the plastic pail
you use
when collecting sea shells,
its handle peppered with bits
of grit and sand
and slick
with sunblock
from your palm.
Let it bump against your knee
as you stroll,
fill it with the pearled pod
of some animal
whose name you once spoke
but have long since disremembered.
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