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The LakeThe Army Corps of EngineersFlooded the town Behind the dam-- Of course Everyone was gone. But still, the buildings Of the town remain Beneath blue water Things forgotten And left behind: An old fashioned flat iron, Yellow wallpaper Showing ladies with parasols Beneath a rose trellis, A blurry black and white Snapshot of a little dog. This reservoir of blue In inhospitable desert Still calls, and we Who know nothing of the drowned town Come down to the water's edge Pretending we want to fish Or picnic But really searching For the submerged-- A teacup with roses, A checkered oilcloth, A blue willow plate-- The last one that wasn't Broken That we'd never expected To forget to take. |
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Issue #12, November, 1999 :
Santa Fe Poetry Broadside.