by Jeanette Lynes
Get on with your life, they urge, think magically.
Grieve, move on. Your bungalow cobwebbed now,
The choristers grown cold. Anyway, some songs
Are best abandoned. The millennial house band
Plays no encore; they don’t believe in it.
Above all, stop mourning that cake pedestal
You left behind, with the built-in music box,
Its slow carousel plinking out the birthday
tune from deep within its tin, hopeful heart.
— from Juniper Volume 1, Issue 2