Thursday, April 11, 2019


Later that morning
I returned to the room,
gathered up my things:
the watch in the nightstand,
a pair of socks, toothbrush,
a pair of leather shoes,
fedora and a half-empty bottle.

There was no recovering
unspoken hopes and spoken
desires, broken promises,
the smell of sweat, dried
tears on the flattened pillows,
words spoken in the rush
of heat and release,
the uncertain future.

I will say the sun was shining,
the cold and wind bracing.
The finches sang their songs
and claimed their territories,
hawks watched them
flitting back and forth,
everything nervous,
shivering in the light.