snap of deadbolt
creak or wooden frame
splits, small splits
peels away stretches
spring out and back
crack of frame upon
frame pine needles
steel catwalk to
edge of cold cold
snow falls gradual
bleaches cold
cold ground
clank scrape batter
goes a plow again
st sidewalk curbs
telephone poles bisect
tangerines on canvas
blank arctic moths
collect like waves
in and out of beam
the rats are out
scampering slipping
in the hull
in the rations
of our cold cold
airship lofting up up
and away from time
and place and isn’t
it just a place
but for the cold
cold
cold
1 comment:
"My life is like some pumpkin seeds"
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