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Copyright © 2019 Terhi K. Cherry

Discarded

Flowers

Terhi K. Cherry

[excerpt]

 

I remember

thirteen years ago,

he turned his head, looked

at me. In an old Victorian pub,

the mahogany table

chipped from the edges, a copper penny

on a coaster. Early evening, a tender

South London breeze. I was

fresh-faced

at twenty-six, blonde hair

pinned up. Coffee

stains, black jeans, hands

the shade of Arabica. His

wavy hair

framing the slender face, feet

inside a pair of Converse. I thought

about discarded flowers

on the sidewalk, how I

predict the weather

from his fingertips --

 

[the full poem in Magic Spells chapbook]

Copyright © 2019 Terhi K. Cherry

The Burial

Terhi K. Cherry

[excerpt]

 

Hermes appears mid coffee and asks

if I remember - corpses need

to be buried

 

at five in the morning. A woman’s face

cut from a magazine

can go down

 

with her secrets. There were four of us

walking into the woods.

Near a stream,

 

some big rocks, I remember Amanda killing

her coat first. She went for it

with a knife,

 

fell to her knees and cried. Said it was

over now --

 

[the full poem in Magic Spells chapbook]

Copyright © 2019 Terhi K. Cherry

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