echo's vigil

Libby McDonnell

letter #2

this afternoon 
under the maple tree

noisy mess of us 
your voice 
stepping over my own

brittle leaves. 
what
     I can't tell

     if you care 
would you
         listen

though you just 
you always 
assume 
you do you
do not know yourself as 
      well
as you'd like to 
think about it


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