The day after
Empty streets
full with ghosts
lost under
empty skies
as black clouds,
gather
the darkness,
in memories
of evening
waiting
to be found
for it’s still
early morning
from yesterday
as a street car
weaves
between
abandoned buildings,
and automobiles parked
in fists
across the road
and as if at random
a single crow picks
from the trash
it’s black eyes
mirrors back
a missing hand,
a hand that holds
a neck
tight, against
the falling dance
of blackening rain.
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p1964km@googlemail.com
