Sunday, August 26, 2007

A Poem

above a windowed department store.

a canopy of gulls in swoop nets,
patterned turgid, blackly lined with corrugated
feet and legs

skate the frozen over
river. the ankles of the smallest children
fold like paper, frost in bittered leather.

shards of vanished wingtip, hoping
to linger hurled in the R’s of Furniture
signs, meeting valleys of dander and salt.

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