Saturday, May 22, 2010

we saw the stars tonight

from the stoop, smoking
under the overhang
of woven tree limbs.

have you known a sky
without a city?

stars that pour their light
into rivers that breath
where trees drink
beside them?

my city is perched
on the bones
of its past, the ghost
of the river swells
and recedes
and is perfect glass
on quiet nights;

and the bridges cross
east to west.

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