Wednesday, April 13, 2011


WRAPPED

Tea-green rain
slants through the sky
and night crawls across our bed.
You climb in
with your warm hands
and in the falling light,
we listen
to the wind move
through the day’s memory.

What needs forgetting?
We know night by its absences
and there is no sound
but the rain and the wind
and the small click of your fingers 
as you pull the green in around us.

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