Saturday, February 17, 2007

Leaving the City

(Jennifer, your cemetery poem. Talia, you're right. Sometimes you just have to let them go, as in, it still doesn't say what it wants to, but life goes on.)

Hand to me again the evening
We dove into the woods

The cliff hanging like
God’s billboard

Silence dripping
Inside the cathedral of pines

Grey wolves patrolling the alleys
Black bears ravaging red berries

You pulled me out of the dead city
Into creeping myrtle sidewalks

The sinking yellow sunset illuminated
A twinkling purple bloom

A labyrinth of nameless streets wandered
Unmarked potholed tombs

The lone street sign a cross
Of metal fence posts

Jos. Schick, 1894, citrus bouquet reeking
A yellow lemon, a green lime

The forest city melted behind us
These woods will someday be mine

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