Past frigid air, definitively and dark winter,

the icy gales haunt the Hornbeams with force.

A graphite sky clouds thought, and sentiment.

On Russell boulevard, leering creatures lurk.

Passing from strangers to wet street corners.

Cars stay right on their cloudy track, unaware.

Herons probably migrating, anxious this season.

In evening, an Inferno will lash out and lick the

Mediterranean, until it burns bright, bright blue.

Bones will be stripped bare, until ivory white;

Hearts will mortarize, and burst forth like shells


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s