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Milk Crates by Melanie Tague

I watched you once
sitting on the bench by the courthouse,
staring at the ground
and I whispered
that you were missing
the night sky but the hum
of the crickets drowned

me out. With your hands
in your pockets and your head still
hanging low you stood
up and started to walk
away. I heard the gravel
crunching into the dirt
with each slow step.
And I said come
but you were too far.

Leaving diesel fumes
a pickup truck drove by,
kept me company.
You always were
the sensitive one. I had
no choice but walk
the other way. Fresh cut
blades soaked in dew
squeaked beneath my feet.

Was it two
or three years
ago? You always were
better with dates, times.
The hour hand
rusted to the moment
you’d gone.



About the author:

Melanie Tague is recent graduate of the University of Missouri –Columbia where she received her BA in History and Sociology. She has previously published work in Barely South Review, OVS MagazineWeave Magazine and Rappahannock Review. She currently resides in Missouri and serves as a contributing editor for River Styx and writes literature magazine reviews forNewpages. She will be attending graduate school this coming fall to obtain her MFA in poetry.


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