first
the fire truck
density itself
blazing through
a canyon
then
the ambulance
the retirement home
parking lot
bathed
in candy cane light
always
early morning
between
four & six
i think
they wake up
feeling
that absence beside them
for what?
the hundredth
the thousandth time?
they reach over
to that absence
across starched sheets
washed
by strange africans
on the
third floor or
the fifth floor
feet
touch the ground
a window
looking out at trees
they did not plant
maybe
they walk back
to those starched sheets
reach across
that absence
& let
go.
Justin Hyde's books and other poems can be found here: http://poets.nyq.org/poet/justinhyde.
No comments:
Post a Comment