Secret Ingredients
City
asphalt reflections-
roots of concrete, steel, and glass
descend from the mist
–
the muted city-
not quite rain
falling
Sand
a windswept sandbar-
terns and driftwood bear witness
to the passing clouds
–
the water’s edge-
a plover’s tracks
turn to sea
Death
absent mourning doves-
I wander aimless around
this cold empty house
–
twelve years gone-
still missing your
hair in the sink
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