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By Megan Waring
When I enter the coffee shop everyone
stands up; Twenties-something man
with already receding hairline, attractive
dad with salt and pepper hair, dust caked
woman with red chicken at her feet.
They all crush their coffee cups.
Open their arms. Bluegrass plays
on the radio quietly. Latte machines
steam out as barista stands with her arms
spread as if she is ready to fly.
They all cheer, You did it, you finally did it.
We’ve been rooting for you. We all knew
you could do it. They whisper. We’ve all
been waiting for you, but we knew you
would get here.The chicken lays an egg
and it bursts into a yolk made up of every year
I have left and it glitters till I am blind.
Due to an increase in submissions we are now closed for new submissions for the Poem of the week, Unbound and New Voices section of the website. We will still accepting interview, essay and article proposals. Check out the website for future updates.