I Am (1)

By Ann Privateer

a canopy of maple trees
that grew above the street
empty bottles clanging
in a wagon, wheels humming do re me
gravel embedded in my knee
zero in January, snow in April
singing in choir, swigging moonshine
running barefoot through velvety parks
sniffles and vomit in the dark
deciduous dinosaurs previewed
a thankless taste of honey
calling friends instead of knocking
I am my brain picking up
a few pieces of my former life.


Published on November 1st, 2022




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