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Emily Clarke
Poems
Mar 2012
Doorstep
I dreamt you visited me--
showed up on my doorstep,
hands in pockets
There were birds chirping
and the sky was mute
I showed you around and
didn’t hold your hand-
the bluffs,
the chapel, the abandoned house,
a heap of doors inside,
by the sagging staircase.
I woke up
before I could answer your question.
Written by
Emily Clarke
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