Coffee Sleeve Stories

Always North

by Steve Rubinstein

What you notice first are clouds

as you step out into sky

from wherever you have come;

they gather here in summer,

feeding on the many-greened sea.

There, in dim blue light

folding inward, slowly rising

toward the longest day,

you will come to believe

—a  continent drifting away—

that memory is a corner

torn from truth, that truth

is not found where it lives.

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