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Month 6:2 “Post-Op Dream with Coda”


here, countless rooms
of old houses
once mine, endless
hallways and wings
I seek
the least of the least

here a tiled wall
blue glaze of sails
and windmills …Dutch
fresh towels shawling
a silver rod

here a closet for lamps
shades upon shades (bulbs)
upon bulbs)
a cord to save enough
of light

here a gas kitchen
a pie on a bone-white counter
glossy colonies of blue

there, a window

out there, a rock garden
early spring clump
of wild chicory
and over there, stones
on which
old wasps falter

petal by petal
the yellow jackets moult
into golden-veined birds
they cannot fly

All chambers unfurled.

I peel away
three mini
skin patches
for tracing


by Tee Zeehan

About ThereseLBroderick

Independent community poet living in Albany, New York USA.

One response »

  1. Therese:
    I found CODA to be an ending for an opera.
    And saw the walk through the life together until the blue skin patches no longer served.
    An exquisite journey!
    Who is Tee Zeehan again?
    Jeanne Poland


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