Saturday, March 25, 2017

Crumbs

(Whatever 
I dreamt 
of
has vanished
in the gray 
light
leaking through 
a gap
in the curtains

less than fragments

crumbs, 
perhaps,
pecked from the grass
by the robins
that hop through
the back yard,
then startle,
all at once
at a stray dog’s
bark)

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