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"Restoration" by Elizabeth Robin


i checked the widow box today

another milestone in the books


like the restored antique car found

languishing on a Georgia farm

a tree growing through its floorboards


or the unmolested original, not

a trailer queen, but a well-mannered

good-driving survivor


could i be one of those?


i miss fingering his fine silky hair

stroking his palm with my index finger

the tilt of his head as he reached for me


like that dog who carries a marrow-rich

bone he drops in pursuit of a giant

shadow version reflected in the lake


i’m near drowning


i cling to funhouse mirror distortions

an Elizabethan purge of bush-hogging

get brazilian waxes and shave

a hollow home in empty slippers



 

Elizabeth Robin, a retired high school teacher, has two collections of poetry through Finishing Line Press: Where Green Meets Blue (2018) and Silk Purses and Lemonade (2017). A poet of witness and discovery, she relates both true and fictional stories about her Lowcountry present and world-traveling past. Also published in fiction and nonfiction, her work appears most recently in The Fourth River, Foliate Oak, Blue Mountain Review, Good Juju, and Reflections.


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1 Comment


DAVID KOZINSKI
Apr 10, 2020

This poem by Elizabeth Robin is compact and trim, specific and expansive. I keep finding new and surprising connections between its gracefully moving parts.

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