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Vision One

August 16, 2006



“Vision One”
(Concentration camp of sorts. I am searching for my dead grandmother, Isabel Blackwell Roberts.)


i have fallen from my family
and eat dust on the road
where is she, many strangers?
where is the matriarch
for whom I pine?
I have lost her (not to death)
but to the negligence
of humankind.
the vision is of a decade I never saw
(in this lifetime).
i comb the graceful
osterich-feathered hats
and the dingy stalls.
where are you,
blood that runs in my veins?
(they say every dream-person is the self.)

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