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There is a limit

By Sara Lynne Puotinen

Lake Nokomis, Minneapolis

to what I need to

know and this is it.

After making eye

contact too many

times with a trio

of hairbands settled

on the sandy floor

I have decided

ignorance is better.

I will believe all

that’s here is me &

water me swimming

water wanting to

hold me up help me

glide go about its

business unnoticed

prepping for splashing

kids boarding paddlers

diving ducks floating

bandaids dearly missed

nose plugs easily

replaced hairbands and

whatever else joins

us in the lake. By

next week the water

will be opaque light

brown steel blue pea soup

green or on extra

sunny days lentil

dal yellow and I

won’t think about

what it contains. I

will rarely bump in-

to fish only once

step on a sharp steel

something and never

again remember

the hairbands sad and

stuck on the lake’s floor.


Sara Lynne Puotinen lives in south Minneapolis, near the Mississippi River Gorge, where she reads and writes and tries to be upright and outside as much as possible. She earned a B.A. in religion, an M.A. in ethics, and a Ph.D in women’s studies, which all inform her experiments in paying attention and her playful troubling of what it means to write while moving, to move while writing, and to do both while losing her central vision from a degenerative eye disease (cone dystrophy).

She can be found on her homepage and Twitter.


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