Sunday, June 24, 2012


cat scratches outside the window
whose cat i don’t know
the weather is fine and mild
this time of year it’s usually brutal

9:18 pm on a Sunday
work thoughts
writing thoughts
sometimes both meet

not like a collision
but overlap and stitch
together because life is like that
we try to divide and find we can’t

by pulling apart we make it whole
word fragments incomplete imagery
inchoate dreams and chaos for display
made whole in one heart and brain

bastard cat is gone and good
for outside too is a mourning dove
nestled in a potted plant with two small eggs
i look with a fresh eye


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