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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