Poetry

Two poems — Karen Blaylock

Shrinking   I bumped into an old lover, he said you’ve shrunk, you were tall and willowy once. My son came home after years away, he hugged me, he’s six foot two, he said you’ve shrunk. My mother is shrinking and she thinks I’ve shrunk. My neighbour says her whole life is shrinking. As we stand at the fence and talk about shrinking the sun fills a Chinese-lantern-flower with a lantern glow, I watch the colours deepening, like watching something grow. I go inside with the makings of a poem on my mind; just then my editor calls and says,…

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