Two poems by Boston community member Kim Garcia.

Shifting Light 2004,
Columbia River Gorge 1982

I woke to the same dream. The room hadn’t changed:
the Buddha was still small and stiff, one brass hand raised
over the bed sheets; the old mirror returning the far wall

with its usual disregard for exactitude. There was no gold
in the morning light. A lighter dark seeped through the blinds.
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