A Day in the Park with Marzipan
Nick Guarino
Childhood artifacts rot.
We hang on them while we can.
My love was loosed
on our little found Nebraskan oasis
in an irrigated stucco daydream.
Monstrous and lilac
she stomps and roars
crushing golden blades of grass.
They give in to her
having already given up their lives
though maybe that last bit is anecdotal.
For though she doesn’t see it, her world
in the same manner bends to her.
Because she doesn’t see,
everything is hers to share.
Who could help but be overwhelmed
by such a delicate force.
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