Meg Malachi

I Know That You Have No Bones

One day I’ll learn
that poetry
is not always
a banquet of cheap memorabilia,
or the stake on which
I swindle myself out of grief—

sometimes it is
a sweet gesture:
my mother, who backs up the car
just far enough
to shine light on the
front door
so that my grandmother
can see her way in.

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Meg Malachi hasn’t been minding her business since 1994.