Cool water pools in shallow depressions.
The park is vacant but for
a single woman
wearing a pink scarf. She carries many black bags
and an umbrella.
She has a dilapidated walk.
The street lights shine pale under an overcast dawn.
Turtle brought me a coffee and a smile and asked
about my weekend. There are voices all around which are
much too loud for the transactions
Several buildings loom above the park. Dark shadows of
steel, glass and cinder. Silent
titans that struggle
over the downcast omnipotence
of a green, slumbering apparition of nature.
Turtle’s translucent reflection puts on a coat, hat
and gloves. “Coming?”
A phone rings nearby and is quickly answered. Looking
away from the window I find everything locked
in a fluorescent haze. I feel constrained by
this disguise of timelessness
and struggle to answer.
The coffee smells nice though, but it has by
now gone cold.
Care closed a hand about a ring
a hand moon burned
a hand adrift in an adjoined love.
the waves with the cinders
crackle and the slow walk of the hills beside.
In a soliloquy tomb
a beauty exposed.
Verse spoken in a tangerine scented wind
as harrowing as rose petals and wine.
Valley rise in the morning
to a morning of decaying fog
litter road and field.
The delightful gait of a child sun.
All that falls
is a light snow
your blood pink ear
pale warm neck
Our south facing room
a rush of breath
So what was the reason?
It’s okay to be defensive.
I don’t seek absolution.
No. You always wanted more.
The seasonal wind shakes
the windows as
orange whispers shudder through the glass
arching your back you
push yourself against me
Reed and willow
nourish in the soil of a soft freeze
The long morning fools us
shelter under the twisted blankets
it is not enough.