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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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