Wednesday, March 26, 2014

Poem: March


It begins with acacia,
canopies of butter,
price tags of pear and cherry.

You know how it ended last time.
Suicides by the million.
Corpses carried off in bags.
Limbs left bare to the winter.

Terry stares at a
cocktail napkin full of numbers,
waiting for amnesia.
From the collection Fields of Satchmo
Photo by MJV

No comments: