My farewell poem to New Mexico

At least, this is the farewell poem I’ve written before leaving New Mexico. I shan’t be surprised if I have more farewells to say when I’ve gone.

Crossing Puget Sound,

I say how unlike the odor

of the Atlantic, not noticing yet

I don’t mean I still miss that childhood

shade of brine. Months later, my nose

is still full of it. So you’ll come with me

back to water. We’ll let the desert

sands run out, at least the ones

we don’t carry there with us, the grains

that may spill sometimes when we blink.

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