Tuesday, September 1, 2015

TO COMPOSE

To compose
in the lure of phrases
on impassable paper stacks
for my urban read
after returning
from a nocturnal embrace
over the city park bench
my sandals
pushing over pine needles
by the last rose bush
in the shifting East wind
a jazz trumpet sounds
near the bandstand gazebo
finding out how to barter
from the warmth
of a last night shelter
in a library cove
pulling an an all nighter
by the side door.


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