Backyard, in Ashes
Kelly Forsythe

In the summer
we tried
to start a fire
with a magnifying
glass. I was afraid
of hurting

the wood. We sat
in the tree
house and ate
sour candy.

The stilled supports
didn't shift
with our weight,

they waited
until

we were older,
curled
with age, gave
in and
stressed, cracks
up their deep
log bodies.

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