Inchoate since 2005.
Thursday, May 16, 2013
On a Minor Street
One time, a hot wind, high mountainside.
That day, canyons and boulder shade.
You stood easy above.
King panted, pranced.
One time, crude day distilled to sustaining air.
On a minor street in a lesser city,
In a hard-won room
She sets her lips and winds her hair.
She waits for them to beat down the door.
And drag her away.
Sideways years of crumpled days;
Brittle leaves over ragged lawn.
Beware that man's intentions.