Monday, September 20, 2010

This Week's Poem

Not Even Names

left night’s sleepless wake

but forgetting
what is still being said

and an open mouth
expecting to be filled

and a homeless dog
pawing up earthen roots dark

yet no darker than morning’s,
haunting the borders

of a virgin cemetery
we may as well call a garden,

not even names
to lose oneself in.

-previously published by Literary Tonic

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