Sunday, November 06, 2005

A consideration of leaves caught by the flaming bush

separate I am
from the body singing
these waves to sleep
on the palm of small events

and when I am coffee or sex
and when sun and concrete
dance a tango
on the lips of afternoon

then I will genuflect
to the small events falling
from memory
as though it is autumn

and winter is coming
on the heels of my past

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