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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