Reparation

Reparation

Knee we knelt to knee
and felt the chill
of summer risk–
our sixteen years together
stretched six thousand miles
to France and back.
Still worlds apart
and hanging by our words,
we tangled yeas and nays.
She was giving most
though I was saying most
in strung-out words
of blame for loneliness–
until we closed the space
that follows separation.

-T.C.Buell

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