thoughts of the past
down comforter, you sap me of my strength and make me waste such precious hours of morning, dreaming. santa rez, las cruces, my friends are moving on!
down comforter, you sap me of my strength and make me waste such precious hours of morning, dreaming. santa rez, las cruces, my friends are moving on!
the body is a suit worn by the breath a drapery, waving slightly in a timely wind. the starch-stiff places and the wrinkles. pocket lint.
a robin lands on the railing, turns its head peeks over its left shoulder and shits a laugh ignites my belly. off he flies steam-waves through the cold.