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Teresa A. Phipps

Before

Fell down from the river

a village collapsed

then settled

​

Shuffled in during

that century

when lined faces

hadn't any names

​

Card houses ran amok

among thin hands and

bony fingers

​

I can still hear the clatter of the moving contraptions of that forgotten race

Ode to the Dead

Counting bones

is like humming a new song

​

I can slide her name

"The oldest of the old"

between slices of bread

​

Pound these bones

into powder

with my rage

​

I will sing for the long forgotten

To the Goddess of Never Was

I will hear her laugh

as I bite down

Swimming Lessons

Drawn from deep waters

the sea pulls them close to her

tells them stories of mothers

who tossed their daughters

into the deep

​

Daughters who couldn't swim

daughters who learned

to be

mermaids

in the school of hard knocks

​

Daughters who learned

whale-song 

instead of 

nursery rhyme

​

The mothers shrug their shoulders,

push their toes into the sand

​

The sea keeps them, 

unremembered

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