Mary Ann Samyn

All Those Mysteries and All That

The forest where I was a little girl is on fire
I had done my best hoping against hope there.
I had attended the church called marriage.

Used to be, a town could lay claim to a heart.
Once, the historical museum opened.
The future has never been anyone’s business.

Some habitats go up in flames for good.
That’s the truth of it. Not the worst thing.
My story held the first hundred times I told it.

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