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"At Lace Mill Pond" by Abigail Myers

I looked out at the half frozen lake.

How lovely to be here without you:

no stones or pinecones breaking the crust of ice

and disturbing the fish.

I had time and hands

to look up the name of the black duck

with the white beak and belly:

The tufted duck.

I turned back to the path.

No squeals, no mumbled half remembered songs

from the preschool down the road.

How awful to be here without you.

Abigail Myers lives on Long Island, New York, where she writes poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction. Her essays have appeared in the Blackwell Philosophy and Pop Culture series, with a personal essay forthcoming from Phoebe in winter 2023. Her microfiction recently appeared in Heart Balm. Her poetry recently appeared in Rough Diamond Poetry, with poetry forthcoming from Sylvia, Poetry as Promised, Amethyst Review, and Unlimited Literature. You can keep up with her at and @abigailmyers (still on Twitter).


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