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Natalie Marino

Morning

the question is

a ghost hanging

from the ceiling

dry flowers

still on the side table

the tired moon

not listening

to one more note

being is unbearable

until dawn rises

over ocean water

the winter

folds on trees

snow’s quiet song

plays on the tin roof

old meadows

still breathe leaves

sand prisms are suns

there is no more

needing an answer

Natalie Marino is a writer, mother, and physician. She graduated with a BA in American Literature from UCLA. Her work appears in Barren Magazine, Capsule Stories, Floodlight Editions, Literary Mama, Moria Online, Re-side, and elsewhere. She also reads poetry submissions for Bracken Magazine and The Southampton Review. She lives in Thousand Oaks, California with her husband and two daughters. 

Natalie Marino
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