December 2013 - Comments Off

dendrochronologist part II

Mary Alice Stewart '17

the pond the children played in was clean
before the children’s children had children.
it was beautiful,
they say.
the kids pulled pieces of smooth drift wood
from the water’s edge,
pretending they were dinosaur bones
and buried them in the mud.
in a hundred years someone will find these here,
they said.
the pond now is a gray-brown,
and on friday nights
teenagers etch empty oaths of love
into each other’s throats as
the boys feel up the girls
on the backbone of a stegosaurus,
as the trees create a new ring.

Published by: in Issue 1: Fall 2013, Poetry, Volume 70

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