Thursday, February 28, 2013

a good world for ghosts.

grass lengthens in patches
through rubbled concrete
and everywhere shattered bottles.
cold filters are without cigarettes
and bags shred in bare branches.
a footprint in mud
but across a small field not even one animal.
the houses don't move with the wind
nor the people with the seasons,
everywhere signs are posted
even when only the clouds are passing.

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