“How
are you?” my neighbor
calls as I lug the stone
weight in my belly up
the steps to my house.
“The war,” I venture,
watching her face.
She nods, she says
“I lie awake at night
on my clean white
sheet and think
about the people there…”
She falters. We are moving
toward each other. “Shame,
I offer. “Shame,” she accepts—
that’s exactly it.” We look, brown
to blue, into each others eyes.
The ornamental pear extends
its frilly white buds over us.
We embrace in the late sun.
“Take care.” “You too.”
We part
and close our doors.
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