Autumn, or, Rain and a Lingering Soft Light of Sleep
I brew coffee while steam pipes talk
And my smallness in the scheme of things
Circles cat-like, though I have no cat.
Bride’s dress, goat’s wool, side by side in attic.
Here we walk now
My dead brother with me—
He’s the one (sensibly) wearing
White rubber boots.
Pawnshop in Athens
Not for from Syntagma Sq.
Saw I’d remain half crazy
For one more day…
There are lots of blind people my age
Who don’t much like themselves
Zig-zag lines of darkness
Make you (on the inside) drift like a leaf
Just a bone in a larger collection of bones,
What I am…call it the body if you like,
I know better. Soon now,
Rocks will roll straight through….
Never got over it.
Seven years old.