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13-surrender

Surrender

13-surrender

At eight
spring
knocked
me out
bowled me
over gob‐
smacked
me   every
tree—redbud
cherry, plum
pear
—a shock
of color
a blast
of scent
lifting
me
up
At sixteen
I lay with
a boy
naked
in my
mother’s
bed   gold
filtering
through half‐
closed blinds
no need for
sex, every‐
thing said
in a look
a hunger
an in‐
drawn
breath
At sixty‐
four I
climb
a green
over‐
look
throw
myself
down
under a
wanton
magnolia
wake
all
night
stunned
by
stars

Margaret Stetler lives in Winchester, Va.​

Posted in: November 2014: Books and Writing, Poetry

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