My friend tells me it is unusual for a woman who is twenty-seven to have a globe in her house atop her bookshelf. I do not know why this would be why it would be strange to have the world on a pedestal in my living room. How else would I remember the tilt of the planet, the smallness of a morning, the infinitely traceable circle? Is twenty-seven too old to forget or too young? And is the ocean really so green in the middle, so shallow at the edges?
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Wilson Diehl is a poet and essayist from the lovely and underrated state of Iowa. She has an MFA in Creative Nonfiction from the University of Iowa and a cat named Turtle from the Madison, Wisconsin Humane Society.