9/15/2014

I

Poor-

  Is it poor manners to remember very well?recalling each recoil

with a frightening penchant

for reliving many chances.

II

The trees bawl at their own nakedness like the boy who asked if I was

  ***** once.

Foliage constantly in my line of sight

once is finally beginning to change

  it begs the mirror for one more than just a reflection

It misses its adornments because it is ugly now.

III

I had marveled to myself sitting in the middle of the gravel

   today at five.

I'd painted the very first day of spring in my head messily:

  lacking tact- like chalk that takes days for the rain to wash it away.



IV

When they asked for my name

I'd reluctantly give in to everyone, everything

the days they were unbelievably hot

  and look at me now, almost not believing

the choking ravines of newly **** brambles had sent a chill down

   my spine

     last yesterday



         just as your voice over the phone had done the day before.