Saturday, July 24, 2010



A PARABLE FOR FIRST MONDAY, JANUARY

Driving home from the warehouse,
little jazz on FM, the moon low
and full over the frozen reservoir,
a powder polishing the ice.

Suppose
those lights behind me, gaining,
were someone speeding to catch up
to tell me I’d forgotten something;

not this flatbed rattling past
with a load of empties.

No comments: