Monday, October 10, 2011

At Close

Some idle pleasures
but also, idle duties
unworthy of youth;
too old to be killed

Facts as confessions
perimetered clumsily
with great, odd love
receding every day

Betrayal is boundary,
wandering rebellion
listen to its arrhythmia
muted and unsuspecting

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what we are built for

in the days when the kids were smaller and my parents younger and they lived here  six months of the year                                   ...