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Between us, coffee

and the scrim of city air, a cast

off the gleam

of heat, still present.

A poor flower in a plain

vase for me to look at, else.

Then a little talk lifts,

the detail no more etched

than your beautiful stainless

face, and opposite me,

from your place in all this light,

do you become hidden.

from Inside Spiders

Copyright © Persea Books 2013
Used with the permission of The Permissions Company, Inc.
on behalf of Persea Books.

Published in Leslie Shinn Poems

This program is supported in part by a grant from the Idaho Humanities Council, a State-based program of the National Endowment for the Humanities.

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