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POEM: what we choose to remember

what we choose to remember

in the park on the hill
trees shade the monuments
to the dead, the killed

mottled sunlight hits the plumes
of a fountain, the breeze
carries mist down the hill
toward the center of the city

a man with twitching legs
smokes pot on a bench
in front of the courthouse

do this in memory of me

there’s a rainbow on the east side
of the fountain
I’m glad I don’t live here

Published in My poems Poetry Travel


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