Writing My Ticket


The Ouija board

Spells it out for me

“keep writing”

But always

I’ll choose to ignore the signs

Falling from my tower

Death still seems

Something miniscule

A woman pushing an

Infant in a stroller

On the far side of town

I want to see

Her walking away

But last week

She was on the

other side of the state

to see what’s in her carriage

the tree sap trickle

of a disparaging growth

into survival

snuffed out

among the leaves

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