Saturday, September 12, 2009

The Susurration of a Grandmother

Still there is the innocent sky
cloaked and holding in a wheeze
turning over leaf
until its cement shadow is undone

and for a minute though yet to come
the tongue of Autumn fills my mouth
and releases a love song
within the perfect chamber
damp a slip of almost cool breath

Time opens past the fracture of the screen

Picking up the sound
my own
in earnest taking me up past blue
innocent sky
to hum a thin and delicate true


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