January 2014

Darkness falls on the city

A weight of time and cold

Slipping in sadness

Ice frozen and cracked

 

Dulled

I blow my nose

The day is waking

Tree limp shadows 

On the pale gray house 

Across the alley

I roll over

Craving

Sleep

The twist

The hero is a liar

The villain finds god

The dog meows

The moon is silent

The phone doesn’t ring

There are no tracks

There is no crime

That is as great 

As a sad life

Pottery shards scattered in the tell

Mosaic floors suggest desire for beauty

Craftsmanship takes time

But it was the women who did the weaving

Although we have only a scrap

Dirty and torn

Perhaps used as a rag 

Before finding itself in this midden

And the gods were many

It is time to pack

The grid is laid

Washed out colors 

Of job

And commute

And dross of daily life

Uncolored by imagination.

I want 

Dragons and rainbows

Like every girl