The balcony rail is cold and damp
I lean on it anyway.
There is one cricket singing
weet
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with long pauses in between.
It could be one of those early spring mornings
I rose in the Catskills, Grandma’s trailer
grass not green but grey, coated in condensation
silver
Many crickets singing
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with long pauses in between.
It’s autumn now and I am shirtsleeves
rolled up on my shoulders like Fonzie,
flip flops, toes not cold.
All the cars in the lot are
coated in condensation
and my child’s heart wants to run down there and
fingerpaint hearts and smiley faces on all the windshields.
“Are you seeing the same moon I am?”
“I love you more.”
Weet
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With long pauses in between.
Night of the Curtain
31 Monday Oct 2022
Posted Uncategorized
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