Friday, March 01, 2013


The Moon, a celestial ghost,
haunts earth.

Untroubled, solace shines
over my hearth.

The night is my page.
It dyes pale sheets.
My feet sink like stone
in cool sands.

Winds solicit
snapdragon skulls
to sing
a bittersweet chorus.

I forget Bolek,
passed out on tracks,
who never roused 
to collect himself.

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