Friday, April 29, 2011


This one's mostly, though not exclusively, for my Ren peeps: Who knew? (Wait for it...)

Mourning in November

A clutter of bird cries
In air deaf as concrete
When daylight is terminal.

Widows of fallen leaves
Flaunt orange lipstick,
Fooling no one.

Chattering into midnight,
I stockpile bromides:
Hard and shiny as acorns.

--Heather Dubrow

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