Minggu, 10 Juli 2011


Tell me it ain’t a madman’s wind
Blowing off the bluffs
This morning over the town

A haint slipped off about dawn
From the roof of the ancient church
Went the way of a gull feather
On a winging current

He was like
The sliver of smoke
A dangerous woman
Knifes from one nostril

His was like
The departure
I did not get to watch
Of others, who never knew
The whitewashed walls and
Bougainvillea of this horseshoe bay
Nor the multiplicity
Of blue doors

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