Beads I would take for all
of Manhattan
Too many opossums? Countless as pocket knives; hard to view our
world without them, even harder, a necklace, opossum teeth
and pearls
around your neck on your way to work that September morning.
I was
the pendant your heart wore; me, a balding animal you loved
more than
opossums or pearls or that perch, your cage of glass and
steel, a Tower too
high for our eyes to meet when I stared up at you, nor you,
down for me to
catch you when you jumped. I may have looked different then,
wavy hair,
a pelt, legs so close to the ground, teeth clenched tight as
any opossum’s fifty;
hands, claws useless to snare your falling heart, nor you,
my love, my jewel.
B.Koplen
8/8/13
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