After Gloria

Postcard Collage 2 
(a reversioning of Gloria Sanders’ Postcard Collage) 

Holding the babysack 

sad like potatoes

Past possessions drowned

Mothers stride on and we 


days on 


Whether the wide world likes it or not

these things could happen


Close to flames


Cold us crackling 

Logs for fire as weapon

A deep first

A forest burn

Things seemed to seemed to happen 

(All passing?)

Sometimes the world made smaller

Sometimes the world, wide, liked it

Measured out love could be

bead counting

string snapping

ice skidding stones tomed in 

flesh or

eyes or





a poured ocean

(c) Vera Chok 2015

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