Poem: "Husband" by Pamela Harrison
Husband
With his right hand he slipped the key into his shirt pocket, over his heart, a little bulge in the starch of it. This, across a breakfast table lit by a vase of Purple asters and the season’s last veined leaves. Lost world. Lost world. That single motion would, long after, be the sign of all he could not save. |
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Pamela Harrison reads "Husband" |