I.
she drove me to the train
i whispered my confession
to crocus buds the mud
the blooming quiet sky
said penance to the fog
a cashier in the store
who shyly bowed to trace
a cross between my eyes
II.
the summer hummed too drunk
i walked too far against
the dust of passing cars
a raccoon family paused
to pity me they watched
front paws aloft as i
the pilgrim trudged for blocks
my blisters bled into the sheets
III.
a war was fought and yet
the clouds are ordinary grey
it’s just a bus, it’s just
a corner, just a song
a merely mortal mess
i miss our gesture cluster
disorganized i’m left
to live my way through this
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