Friday, December 16, 2016

tuesday morning octets


distant train whistle repeats this black morning;
car lights at the avenue stop sign advance—

steam in wisps rises & swirls from the coffee cup;
sweetened only by half & half & soothing

a raw throat—you sat in the full lotus, eyes
lowered in the dream; not a word to be said—

condensation glittering on the silent
window: tell me where the train whistle has gone


amber light crosses the parking lot; kitchen
lit white in the opposite direction—black

teakettle as punctuation, mild rattle
when the fridge starts up, whir as the hard drive spins—

vibrations translated; black headphones straddle
the computer’s gray box, empty, echoing

silence—reflection segmented by the blinds:
everyone rising everyone dissolving 

Jack Hayes
© 2016


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