[i have only now been able to post this. i wrote this three years ago after the death of a very dear friend. june 3rd marked the third year of his loss.]
smell of fresh rain and wet concrete
the leaves moved to applaud
relief from heat
tiny drops tapped
the napes of necks
bent in grief
tears turn to mist
to form a fog of you
bound by disbelief
suddenly
but we planted a tree for you
and you painted the sky
your shade of blue
and a warm orange
i hope to make apple pies
in your memory.
18 June 2009
while i was smoking
i watched the slow death of an earthworm
writhing under the
peck
peck
peck
peck
peck
of a robin's beak
ugly bird
feathers faded from the days,
you look like death
i don't like you, bird.
writhing under the
peck
peck
peck
peck
peck
of a robin's beak
ugly bird
feathers faded from the days,
you look like death
i don't like you, bird.
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