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A Hole Is To Dig


    


A hole is to dig

the old one must think

gnarled nails to carpet

maniacally, again

to dig is oneself

into a hole, no matter

a hole is absent

and she’s been here 

digging for years 

flinging the same stuffed frog

and fake sticks

past her downy tail

like dry dirt, knowing 

things are what you make of them

a hole is to extract oneself

with difficulty a rabbit

is an exit to her own

sequestered room


Ashley Colley’s poems have appeared in Orion, Colorado Review, The Spectacle, Prelude, jubilat, Black Warrior Review, and elsewhere. She lives in Memphis.