Monday, August 27, 2018

For Paul in the Apple Tree Valentine

The moon in the puddle
Isn’t very subtle
All yawns but no sleep
 
It rests right foreground
On the empty wet street
On the left a row of row-houses
 
And on the other side a crush
Of stately skyscrapers
Ominous as always
 
The air is moist and soft
So you can feel the colors
Before you see the shapes
 
Of a rush of children
Still in their pajamas
Come crying down the street

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