Thursday, February 10, 2011

Poem Inspired by a Photograph at the Mint Museum

and even this

in our shabby lives
concocted of chain link
and clapboard
when the fog has taken
everything else

are we willing to leave
this blue invisibility
and burst into the pale
orange light where
nothing is hidden
anymore?

Or do we pass by and wander
along the cracked sidewalk
like coyotes hungry
for yellow cats?

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