Saturday, January 4, 2014


The morning is haunted
Waking dreams of trains that roar
Through backwater towns
The sounds lonely
Dogs at my window soulful
Keen for freedom and shiver
Frigid before the light breaks
In all her saffron glory
Still muted cool wind through empty frames
The reverberation
Metal and bone collide
The flesh is silent
Epitaphs of weary wood
Santuarios and dollar store daisies
Lean into the grief
Genuflect the decay
How easily we forget…
Rust and oil and sweat
We come to our senses in the harsh
Of cloudless skies and red earth
That can’t receive us
I wait for the rage
Behind my weary eyes
To subside
Find that center apathetic
The litany of cicadas
In the death throes of a summer afternoon
Tongue lolling and splayed out
On my back porch
Shallow as dew on the back of a toad
Shake it off girl
And breathe…
TL Boehm

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