Age

alone at the bar-
a campari and soda
by a full ashtray
–
neon lights-
my reflection in
an empty glass

the screen door askew-
on the dead oak a tire swing
full of autumn leaves
–
a rusted bike-
through the spokes
foxtails grow

the sins of the past-
mixed with the cooling ashes
from the evening fire
–
dragonflies-
old misdeeds cast
upon the water

a worn dinette set-
memories of old comforts
in the falling rain
–
water crackers-
a chipped tea cup
rimmed in red

bright mid-winter stars-
your alabaster shoulders
dressed by the ghost moon
–
rumpled sheets-
asleep intertwined
blanketed by the moon

the senbazuru-
origami alchemy
brings my cranes to life
–
parchment skin –
rice paper slowly
creased and folded

wrought iron street lamps-
ancient cobblestones vanish
in the rising fog
–
echos of hooves-
a hansom cab
lost in the mist

rails shrouded in fog-
a ghost train departs beneath
the approaching dawn
–
sunrise shadows-
nascent snow cradled in
dry autumn leaves

encroaching midnight-
the doomsday clock poised to toll
humanity’s dirge
–
pools of red wax-
guttering candles
cast their meager light

honeysuckle wine-
content letting the front porch
host my slow decline
–
passing cars-
an afghan shrouds
her empty rocker