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Poetry By
Cheryl Wilder
Published on: 7/15/2010
Any Good Reason
It took all my effort at first but after time became who I am, this wanting to ignore the depth of pain and just find a plateau. At my hearing when Mike's father stated to the court how I did the work of the devil, the stenographer never looked up, D - E - V - I - L. Do accidents happen to you, or do you cause accidents? While having lunch with a friend I searched for reasons why Mike was in a coma. He said people seek religion after trauma to answer why; we finished our conversation in silence. I've never come up with reasons, only a crisp awareness of timing-- the alcohol in my blood, a sharp left curve, the shimmering rain--kind of like the atomic bomb and how the newly invented air-conditioner cooled the lab until something clicked and energy leapt through the veins of a moment stopping time with one loud crash.
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