Monday, September 4, 2017

Birdless Valentine

The day-moth climbs
From cloud to cloud
Gray with red flecks
Sparrows scour the gutters
For leftover film
Two days later
Everything’s dry as bone
The old birds have gone
The new ones wait at the threshold
Where a mountain paces
Angry as a man
When you get to a dead-end
Keep going through the neighborhoods
Or over the cliff as they say
You’ll know it’s a good direction
If the obstacles are grave

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