our tomorrow never came

This just in: a whole new category of quiet
the way mornings fall and trees wake up
leaning carefully over the dewy grass
(undone is never done) the way I sit
barely breathing at all
just staring at the movements of things at first light
and listening.
Listening.


2004-10-22 | 11:00 a.m.
0 comments so far

previousnext

background