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Searching for survivors (a poem by Taylor Graham)

hatchandjudygraham

Talavera


As if spilled milk glazed over native sands

hard-fired but not unbreakable –


my dog pads over porcelain no longer

ornamental, fragments of


tiles delicate blue on white, sky painted on

cloud, the world topsy-turvy


with shattered walls. Rhythmic breathing

of my dog inhaling scent


that rises through cracks from tiny cells

of space, how far beneath


what had been

corridor and room – bronchioli, alveoli


compressed as if a giant stamped

across this portion of


city, leaving fragments of lintel-rebar-bone.

But look. Someone


has set aside one tile unbroken –

as if to neaten, no,


as token of a chance to raise one

living from the dead.


~ Taylor Graham


from Uplift (www.coldriverpress.org)


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