Saturday, December 12, 2009

Painful Beauty

A brisk, early walk in the new, summer sun
Ripe enough to cue cicada's eager song
I greet a row of marigolds swaying by a fence
and shade my squinting eye from their yellow too intense
The gods are blowing just enough to rouse the old, fan palm
Rustling it glistens while an old man waters on
I wave a bright good morning
My heart it pains my chest
A dog on a leash and a soap-sodden car
Now I run in clear protest
Searching for some ugly
to stop my welling tears
I head toward the highway
And comfort fills my ears

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