Upper Peninsula

by David Welch | Mon Jan 14 2013
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I should be there
Among the daffodils
After we arrive
Our trains turn into
Their ghosts behind us
I’m trying to imagine how
To not carry my breasts
In front of you
I am trying to
Reason with that
Bat I keep hearing here
But cannot see
I have always loved
The word proboscis
In that I’ve been successful
The northern wind
Moves like a pike
Beneath this evergreen
I cannot see
I keep hearing
Is it yet summer
Where you are too

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