July 13

comments 6

Still no rain
outside in little Italy

tablecloths flapping
like loosened sails–

another night falls
into red glass lamps

a subtle storm
shy lightning

no thunder
only distant sirens

and a mournful
tenor sax–

even with all this
I am not really here

but am air myself
a wind a song

unable to be
in a place

without something
to hold me there–

someone to see
someone to hear



  1. Shadow of Iris says

    Brilliant images, short and succinct, a waterfall of wonderfulness cascading down the page. Well done!


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