Friday, January 28, 2011

We sing our ruby sunset song
for Jennifer who
didn’t return.

It’s a day icicles advance
the periglacial landscape of
stalactite memories.

A crow tests trees limb by
limb and streetcars
appear to be derailed.

Collision course collision course —
words are a twisted wreckage
under brightening street lights.

In the corners of my prior actions
you sweep with single-minded
purpose until all light is gone.

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