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Possible Whereabouts

What I’m not
Lately
is full of poems
They don’t crowd around
waving, jumping
craving
the scratchy feel of paper
beneath their inky toes

They wandered off
to the Islands, I imagine,
judging by the luggage
I picture them packing
Floral, full of sweetness
and secrets
sunscreen and paperbacks,
I imagine
— and that’s a start

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