the plaintive songs
of Phoebe Snow
recalls the night
that gave birth to woe

on the pungent smell
of gasoline
wafts the image of a boy
in tattered jeans

with the obnoxious sound
of an engine’s roar
she sees him leaning
against the garage door

the raspy sound
of a dry autumn leaf
brings to the surface
an ancient grief

ice cubes
that clink inside a glass
& she’s again engulfed by pain
she thought would pass

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