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Page 79

YOUR STORY Carl Boon



 Your story could be 
 paragraphs of children 
 building backyard tents, 
 September turning cold,
 and their school books 
 scratched with bad equations.
 


You could capture a woman 
 who was loved, who passes
 weekends in the suburbs,
 her husband’s Mitsubishi,
 packs the lunches with napkins
 Sunday evenings. 
 


Paragraph after paragraph
 of purchases at Meijers:
 paper towels and diapers,
 food for the parakeet, limes
 for her husband’s cocktails,
 foil for the leftovers.
 


It could be she remembers
 the joy of sonnets, the joy
 of what she learned 
 long ago when joy was close
 and lit on matchsticks in the wind.
 It could be you mean for her
 


not a story but a sonnet,
 or Brahms playing softly 
 in a scrubbed bedroom.
 There she brushes her hair,
 examines her hips and whispers
 I am not the woman they know.
 


I stood beside a pond 
 in winter and counted black
 walnut branches until my mother
 called to say it was time to go home.
 So I did and let my hair grow
 and married and when 
 
 


Page 72 | The Paragon Journal

Profile for The Paragon Press

The Paragon Journal - Issue Ten  

The Paragon Journal is an online literary journal that specializes in helping younger authors find their way in the literary world.

The Paragon Journal - Issue Ten  

The Paragon Journal is an online literary journal that specializes in helping younger authors find their way in the literary world.

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