Monday, November 9, 2009

606. A HOSPITAL BASKET SOMEWHERE IN FRANCE

A HOSPITAL BASKET
SOMEWHERE IN FRANCE
Just as I am happy to be so broken, so
I am wise to be so dumb. Let the
little things mean a lot - all that ice
on the shiny driveway, all those plants
now withered and dead. This semblance
of 'Life' - like some leftover scum on the
black-lace iron of a third-story balcony
nearby - reads me well. I am speechless,
indubitably silent, and bereft - as if
some parent had died, or a baby
brother, found injured, was
now dead in a hospital
basket somewhere
in France.

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