Sunday, July 8, 2007


scattered scarlet resounding in spirals

turning wide arcs upwards to pinpoint a single star

lit the pitch like a pinhole on an arid desert

blue dunes shuffle

the lacy curtain of dawn still hours away

sustained youth

all standing around like tracing paper

as we cradled these days

as we repeated promises down eastern walkways

as our shins grace the tips of long petaled flowers

growing there on the picketed sand dunes


dawn bravely drifts into clear view

things on shadow greens whirl and chirp

in acknowledgement the slowly spreading mist

coughs us onto the barely there

grey sands

the careless tides fold and break

like a consistent match strike

within the jaded role of designated time

all our limber youthful movements

turn to stone

I can no longer make out what is being said over the speakers

as day shadows with handles beg to be noticed

as your tattered rags break loudly on the breeze

as pages of eyesore scatter suns

at first light

as the first beam of morning touches our naked toes

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