April 23, 2014


a dropping off place, that’s where I’m left.  the side of the road on an empty park bench. alone. a pigeon, an ant, a sow bug curls up under a rock..quiet and still, alone, next to a stone.  abandoned to sit, still, a park bench.  a bird’s excrement drips slimy white goo along the edge where I sit. grime on the slats, someone’s spit. waiting, I'm nothing without you. alone.  a horn honks in the street, a skater skates by, a look to the left, right. a single white cloud in the sky. the moon came up a dozen times over the hills, through the trees, plunging down, down in the valleys. a year,  no goodbye. I sit waiting.  the pigeon waits to be fed.  I have no food.  she flies away.  I sit and wait.  no return.  the sow bug crawls to the next rock, the ant walks home.  on a breeze, the cloud lingers, disappears.  the whistle of a train, I hear.  I’m here, alone.

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