daily – Page 161 – A Life in Poems

3/2/2021

As soon as Autumn bit my leg
I tripped and fell on my own head…

The crowd was dying
Dead and crying…

It’s an early morning
The birds that wake the still-asleep
Are woken up by me…

Rather old and frail
The clock-maker’s clocks
Ticked stronger than he…

He wiped the sweat off of his brow
As if he could remove his brow…

The wind walked a little further
Tired from eons of wandering…

She wasn’t waiting
For a train or a bus
Just the rain that was falling
To bite the dust…

We fed on grapes at noon
Turn to raisins very soon…

There is a blinking light
A ceiling away…

Insects rising
Oozing from grates
On the side of the street…