It’s late tonight.
My thoughts
Drown my mind
Like the rain
On the tin roof.
A chill drops
Sky blanketed
White fluff
Covering Ice
Frozen
Like the breath
I spoke
Evening tears
Retreat
Behind dollar bills
No name
Faceless
In the crowd
No shroud
Yet hidden
In the cluster
Of feet
Coming and going
Buzzing through
Cracked Streets

Missed
Like morning dew

She wept
For him
The buzzard
In the hollow
Dry as bone
Colored
To reflect
But Death
Collects
A momentary Lapse of judgement
The blades of grass
Trampled and torn
Roots lifted
Dirt Shifted
Like my heart
It skipped
But the beat
Strummed
To the wrong tune
Like the light
That shown before
Bright like the sun
Now swallowed
In the darkness
The abyss
Of thoughts gathered
Walking the pines
Of yesterday