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 Aug 2020
JN Cole
Watching sunset
Watching  lu rid nes s
Watching the blue fall
like dew on grass
or the other way round.

-

Watching small insects
Watching them circle
around and around
the farmer's son's head
because he is
an angel
where holiness and
immaculacy
is a halo of Gnats.

-

Watching leaves
Watching leaves rustle
like old maidens
and lace veils,
chanting and chanting
chanting forgiveness
And stout little
red candles
Lined up like

             a procession
                an offering
                   a sacrifice

They rustle
They sing songs
in languages too
daedal for the
finite understanding
Because language
is but a bit
of the more
  v   a   s   t      imagery.

-

Watching hands
Watching hands
with old worn skin
like an old worn sweater
that used to be warm.

-

Watching hands work
as blue veins pop against
papery brown skin
They used to hide
the life and now they
are draining the light from
eyes squinted against the
glare of the morning.

-

Watching flowers
Watching flowers wilt
Someone forgot to
take the hose one
late morning maybe
because they’re gone
or out The latter
is a wish.



                   _____

All of these are
but fond memories
in a house next
to a field of
corn and rye
I used to think
That maybe
someday
I would come to like
   Living There.

— The End —