Poem In Quarantine With Dying Husband

Outside my window, a maple’s leaves
loosen and return to the blacktop
between apartment buildings. Down below,
dumpsters wait like crocodiles to crush
hog deer, flying foxes, my broken tv,
while treetops remain level with my soul
rummaging for proof of a world that still loves me.
Inside my cage, too close to death’s unwrapped
mouth, the daily train passes, a gazelle.
Her elegant pronking, her refusal to stop.

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