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    Such Reasons Made Manifest 

     

    by Mercedes Lawry

     

     

    Because I have a skeleton, I am greedy for bread.

    Because the wind enters my ears and wreaks havoc

    on my equilibrium, I cannot sing in tune.

    Because there are so many greens to choose from,

    I choose blue.

    First, the racket of hail, a minor assault on the house,

    a vestigial thrill in the gray collapse.

    Next, streaks of orange and pocked clouds. 

    Then, stillness, all but a testy crow.

    Because I swallow an emphasis on pause.

    Because the apple tree has branches to spare

    and the roots, too, are generous.

    Because lies have left scars and I have a tendency

    to worry them.

    The frescoes emerge inside my eyelids.

    Remnants of wings attach at my heels.

    I carry the blather like a bowl of soup 

    and its steam burns my fingers,

    clouds my vision.

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