Tuesday, May 09, 2006

May


A sky of moss coats lips and
broken breaths and
engines groan before such

traffic lights: the irises
of felines.

The thorny tongues we all so feared
have spread:

forget the key. We’ll thunder through
them hand in hand until we see the
bridge and maybe

I will freeze-frame that
wave again and

beg you
to forgive.


Copyright © 2006 Anna Piutti