Monday, January 21, 2013

Late In The Day

( A village along the French coastline.)

A shy wind
drifts in with the tide
attempting to thaw Winter's chill.

On the street corner,
that woman's boy
draws a sea gull
lying in a pile
of leaves and gravel.

He exaggerates the shape
of the bird's head, darkly outlines
an elegant hook

which strikes the eye
of his mother watching
from their stone house window.

She thinks --
as if he's trying
to define the grace of death.

What reaches out
and pulls in
the ashen light,
the most, vulnerable pause.

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