wrapped around one’s feet, the hollow pillars
sunlight like fireflies and moss on the brick wall
the awkwardly dark lanky body
the short and hairs on one’s chest
called upon the dying light after the dreary rain

Trapped inside a doorframe
carved in tired autumn darkness
a lifetime trapped in a completely silent home
the hopelessness of flowers the like of caterpillars

Dull were who’s eyes
faced with a battered pillar of ironwood
fenced in by what is predestined
scattered memorabilia
a cap and muddy lines of poetry

Shoulders the like of hardened gravel through the nois
a fitful September moon
leaning on the wood pillar…???
—
September 2022