Monday, February 7, 2011

Un, deux, trois....


the slow dance of
the tire strung in
the tree follows
the soft spun silk of
the spider sitting in
the window pane;
the widow’s pain
apparent in
the half-drunk glass
the distance in her eyes and
the waltz she dances
hugging her shawl
tighter and
tighter as
the sun sinks and
the tire carries her
 away.
(day fifteen)
You’ve heard the Pixies’ “Where Is My Mind?”

I’d like to know, myself.

Morning must be a more productive time to write.

-Xx

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