PUBLISHED: September 18, 2015
in a lavish sweat
across a bed with
one sheet while
the wind carries
its empty package
through the streets
on one of those
nights when you’ve
come home and
still dressed lie
down beneath
the ceiling fan’s
quiet knell
for who knows
how long
a lamp in the corner
left spewing its
stubborn bright
the first blackbirds
rummaging
in the wet grass
trying to skirt
the darkness with
their calls
when listening
to them
is enough
