Discarded

266/ discarded across a chair, today’s clothes waiting for a new moment— a slow moon rises outside, his eyes closed to the nightwind—
Summer. Late afternoon. Walking across the neighborhood. Brendan reacts to ordinary objects made extraordinary: common blackbirds arching in the dimming light of day or drinking from water collected on sidewalks— the act of their actual being surprises his sensibilities— the newness of life.

Comments

Popular Posts