When the sun goes down
sails and feathers leave
the river. An empty planet
burns in the sky
as lights come on
in the city, and ragged lines
collect before the doors
open, but you don’t arrive
until there’s nothing left
but chrome stars
flashing from the mikes,
the guitars, the drum kit,
and you realize
that you don’t know
anyone, anymore
who has known you all your life.
~ George […]
In the half dark
I watch his lithe figure
like muscled smoke, leap
from the curb, a shadow-tail’s
deft feather balancing his flight
under the two ton
momentum of my Odyssey van,
and when he stops, turns back,
there’s almost no time to decide:
come down hard on the brake,
or trust what he understands
about that split second
window between the wheels.
~ George Amabile
George Amabile […]
He brings her flowers, pinched
from the widow’s window
box, takes her
away from her books, her thoughts,
to walk in the city at night
when the streets are slick
with rain, streaking
lights from the shops, the chic
bars, the traffic, the fountains.
She cannot hold him. His face
breaks and slides away
in her dreams. He appears
without warning, sweeps
her up in his brief
obsessions. When […]
