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It felt like happiness
But it could have been the shoes
Spit-shined for the occasion
Or it could have been the hat
Perfectly angled for the occasion
The shoes?
The hat?
My vertical bookends
The chrome dome makes the man
She said
Flinging the hat across the room
A beret is a French frisbee
She said
It landed on St. Anthony
She called that table
Saints Without Candles.
Joy awaited with arms outstretched
Happiness has passed the torch.
Neither the shoes
Nor the hat:
It was her.
***
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Footnote
All poems and quotes from Frances Steerling
are the copyrighted property of LCSoL
and Frances Steerling
A page inspired by a footnoted quote
from Mr. Steerling is
here ________________________________________________________________________________________________
All poems and quotes from Frances Steerling
are the copyrighted property of LCSoL
and Frances Steerling
A page inspired by a footnoted quote
from Mr. Steerling is
here ________________________________________________________________________________________________
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