Questions

A Poem

Douglas Caraballo Mahairas

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Photo by SwapnIl Dwivedi on Unsplash

Why ask the question?
Why pursue it at all?

I walk from the house, down
a path of concrete slabs.
the small bodies of bees
flit like cupids about my head.

I run now across the spine of the world.
I run my fingers across the spine
of the republic.

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