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.