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title
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Joseph Hardy


 

I'm Grateful

for roots in cold wind, the earth
holding me harder than I can hold myself.

While carrying my coffee up the stairs
I edge around the step or two of despair

but ask emptiness not to fade—to stay
and keep me company.

Just not speak so loudly, take up
so much space,

push our conversation
so obsessively,

to let us be more equals
until she comes.