It was somewhere in the woods
Or on the road to town
Or out by the smoking dump
Or somewhere around the peony bed
Or inside the rusted truck
Or in the pink bedroom’s glow
Sometimes blazing in the stove
Backed by nightfall gone by dawn
It was often in the raspberry rows
And the crowns of Queen Anne’s lace
And chicory its favorite blue
Slowly it seeped into our bodies
Reappearing years later
As me and you
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