Siobhan Casey
Departure
Before my sister
leaves I know that
there is never
a return
that there is nothing
but a wooden vision
of steps
leading out to road.
We talk inside
the steam of
coffee cups
inside the round
chk chk chk
of summer sprinkler
her wedding
already a permanence
between us
a moon resting
on its side
a rusted
bell about to sound.
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