still, among reeds — a tiny poem

the windy rattle at the edge of the cliff

a breath, a city I’m leaving

the dried husks of remembered summers

bonfires we had

the dogs running silently beside us

I wanted it to be everything

as if everything was everything


it gets too cold

when it gets this lonely

and only the wind caresses my face


you were brashbright tan

curved muscles in a hat


I was following


I got too sad this autumn

thinking about ghosts

our summerselves now past

remorse bitter in the cliff’s winds

a family I wanted

we never had

the moon rolls over the landscape in a shroud

there are ashes I have to toss

each handful another closing chapter



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