Listening to a Uintah Lake 2 Months After I Give Birth to my First Child (3rd Place Poetry)
The lake laps the lips of the shore where I sitaway from baby who’s with my mother up the hilland I hear in this place the changes in my namefrom lover to motherlike something gobbled into something else. I hear fish mouths muddling mossy mud,flopping frogs, the sound of the sky pulling metowards itself and ...
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