Sunday, May 13, 2007


Particles of birds decompose the lawn
where the cat discarded them.

I pluck my eyebrows into a new shape
after ten years, though it does nothing
to disguise the burgeoning creases
around my eyes.

I look at others my age and wonder,
'do I look like them' - worn
around the edges, a little too
well travelled.

Beyond my cemetery lawn,
the Norwest arch opens its cavern of light
above the Alps like the road into the future
at the end of a movie.


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