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There Is a Sob In Your Name
there is a sob in your name
when the air shifts around
the syllabic emptiness of your moniker
there’s a swelling lack of Something

the trees mourn alongside us
and there, too, is a gentle whine
like the motor of a plane
that phut-phuts across a lonely sky

and one day when we awake
we will see the swaying ferns
and recall how they bent not so long ago
in the sweet eye of a rain-steeped summer.
© C.S.G.