Poem 456

This began as part of a longer poem that was ultimately not successful … but I always liked these lines … seeing it now as a stand alone it’s very similar to Poem 55, an emotion and visual image I circled back to showing how core it is … the gloaming again …

At Her Window

She is watching weather disturb the skin
of the city
                    how there is a tremor
of scrap paper and overcoats

the street lamps
flick on like a fracture
rain held up
a bucket
                  behind each star