Thursday, January 16, 2014

I'm gonna get the mail

holding air when
wind encircles hooded
face in blinding embrace

bare footprints in
the snow shuffle over
road that knew of black

and black is still
a metal box on post
rendering afternoon post

box mouth yawns
and upchucks three
slips of tree upchucks

scuttle back to
door ajar in white
head to flow aground

behind a door
with post in hand
wrinkled raised brow



No comments: