Sadness

I can dream no more
by the concrete shore
of a parking lot that is no more
like the buildings that once stood there
than eggs are like salmon.
Thrust on the world one bright warm morning
by this female spawning, yawning, her way up stream to
fail and quietly die
The character had been reduced
to non-descript we deduced
and the dreams lay bruised in stone beside the grass.

by Gwendlyn Heleen Fairfax

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