bridge is broken
eyes closed the openness of sight
ice blocks dying from the heat
shadows running across the clock
daggers dulled by apathy
an ad for yesterday’s bread
let freedom bend its limbs
let the child cry
in the closet he calls
in the basement is an apple core
near the old school with the crippled roof
singing love songs to a vase
a Tuesday with no wind
a jar of molasses on a truck bed:
honeybee wings forgotten in a mailbox
they expect more than fresh footprints
bridge is empty
bridge is empty
abridged
abridged
Comments
Post a Comment