SAM SAVAGE morning-glories

May 25, 2014 § Leave a comment

 

A bent street sign   the insane man’s eyes

 

 

It could be the site for something   a bare hill

 

 

Just beyond the prison wall a wall of trees

 

 

Dancing to sounds from the Big Band Era a pair of midgets

 

 

Out of the fog’s whiteness silence

 

 

Unslept, the cool breeze on my eyelids

 

 

Alone in a house with children the slowly falling dusk

 

 

Along the roadside

torn-up paper in the grass

is morning-glories

 

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