in the foul aftermath of this petty little giggle,
a red-edged envelope delivers the asked for grief:
a dream of smoke and caring
withdrawn into rural housekeeping,
the inevitable looping of the twine
that passes as a state of grace
in all the couch-lined parlours.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment
Yes?