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ISSUE:  Summer 2019

for Idoia

Capricorn, hair, bray, and hoof, eater of tin, biter,
bitter, sister, wilder than tame, not quite
gamey as deer, lower cousin to the caribou,
giving rise to tears and the satyr. O Tragos,
in the night I had a memory of sweetgrass
and clover, a nudge of the brow, a lapping tongue—
it swept over me like a breeze through the rails,
leaving when my eyes opened. Child
that I am of Saturn and revels, each moment lives
for each moment until a recollection comes
in a dream that only wounds upon waking,
when the truth of loss is an emptied horn of plenty.
I know you understand having gained and having lost. 


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