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Buoy the population of the soul
Toward their destination before they drown
~ Robert Pinsky
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Monday, 29. September 2003

Fall



It is fall again, And old wounds are laid bare. The cold epidermis flaps against Bones, a rag toy leaking wool.

Crisp leaves bury the sundials And nights lengthen across the meridians. I wake before light again, Clutching to my bony chest, the sum Of things, between us, left unsaid and undone.




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last updated: 10/31/17, 3:37 PM
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