The song of two doves
Cooing amid the pale light
On a power line above the street,
They drove away my morning fear.
It was that dry silence of the long afternoon,
The cooling-copper sun
The empty, parking lot sky:
Tension ate like a slow acid
Cut with a deliberate reptilian precision
Trickled sawdust in the mind.
Evening came
A heavy cart, creaking down the
silent street
Dragging a sickly moon.
