NEARING TOWSON STREET
Each yard has its garden spot and they're all
a'bloom - with a fire of abandoned growth.
Crazy shoots and flying claws. Plants
with tendrils everywhere. Small moments
of a Princeton morning walk. I used to walk
these terms every morning, like a lawyer
still writing his brief - the case was over,
the arguments closed - but the words still
had a fight to finish. Now it's over, and
already so long ago I forget the way
each morning used to end.
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