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In The Garden

We had plans to build
a summerhouse just there.
And farther, by the fence,
that's where we buried your dog.
Over there we played badminton
with Sam and Arthur, when we
were all too drunk to hit anything.
And on that slope you and I
made snow angels,
the one time it snowed,
just before you left.

This poem is © 2007 Merkin, to whom comments may be sent.

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