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Night Visit

He thumbs buttons into holes,

tugs a collar to his lobes, steps into

the sleet which pings off headstones.

 

A yellow Ford picks up another fare,

follows feline peepers back to town.

The sky lets up, quiets. Bones

 

creak under the weight of darkness.

A hefty tang of gardenias lodges

in his sinus, stops a sneeze dead.

 

◄ Traces of Her

Comments

<Deleted User> (4744)

Thu 19th Jun 2008 15:24

Good imagery in here Dai ... I'm slipping back over a few blogs that I missed while I was away. I'm surprised there was not other comment on this one. I especially like that opening line.

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