More Excitement for the Change of Season
The late fall sun jangles
while I open up my house
and lay on the floor
while the north wind blows
through the screen door
taking with it all the summer
dust and the death
of my friend Rick. The angle
of the light could be ominous,
but it isn’t, it is cocky —
as if to say, whatever else
you have in store, you
beastly universe, we
are not impressed, we
have seen it all. Great things
have come and will come again.
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