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After hours –
one barber
giving the other a trim.

Alone in the evening,
the flower arranger
tenderizes meat.

One cork pushed in
deeper than the other –
summer night.

Toy soldier –
something wrong
about his face.

Barely restraining themselves
while we entertain guests –
the mousetraps.

Comparing scars,
they lean against each other –
old cutting boards.

Taking the tent down –
while we slept,
the milkweed opened.

Inside the chest
she writes letters on –
the sewing machine.

Home from the hospital,
the farmer eats
at an odd hour.

Alone with his father,
the boy fishes
with a bare hook.

Call from the hospital –
the tea water
boils itself away.

Watchmaker’s shop –
how do you know
which to believe?

Domestic troubles –
he goes out to fix the roof
of the doghouse.

Halloween –
a mother
cutting tinfoil.

Even deep in the wall
it is ornate –
the sliding door.

Too small to hold any face –
the mirror
in her dollhouse.

Christmas Eve –
humming carols,
the night janitor.

Winter moonlight –
passing my hand
into the scythe.

Young couple –
a sleeping bag in the bed
of their truck.

Bankrupt tavern –
all the darts
crammed in the bull’s eye.

Knee-high wheat
and the boy has lost
his first boomerang.

Late night diner –
a lot of silverware
for one mouth.

Big snow –
in the cemetery, only
the tallest graves.

Family coming,
they take down
a few photographs.
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