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Gary Sloboda


Honor this rose of misapprehension,

how deeply the old woman felt

on line at the bank that her purse

held before her was a pail

of oats presented to a horse.

The teller’s mustache a blank

in a hangman game. To snap

her out of it we took her gently

by the arm, gently bending down

to ask her what geldings run

free in what fields.






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