Two Images of Oblivion
An underdeveloped plot with poor drainage
Evenings we take the wheelchair around the apartments
Each orbit a pause to view birds in standing pools of water
A mated pair of tree ducks, otherwise grackles
The male’s double-voiced pond song, then a dance
Sometimes a night heron
Years ago housing projects filled the plot
Before that, shacks of the Baptist settlement
No running water, a bronze pump, a lion on top
Plot where memory has no prior referent
Shallow flood of nothing
Yet a place all the same, like heaven or earth
The close of a nightly bedtime story
It always ended at the bottom of a hill
One rolled so fast he turned into hot butter
In the forest, buttered toast for all
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