Wasp shadows dance in my smoke.
Flitting wings break grey blue streams in lined shadow
over Sunday night Charleston.
The hazed out slats of the porch rail are
a fence, for me and the statue darkness. Both of us
kept in, kept out.
Here is hesitation in the sharp draw of a cigar.
This is caution, dumb and worried,
silent among the wasps.
I miss Charleston. And want to sit on your porch with you =) Did you delete your facebook again??
ReplyDeleteI MISS YOU. And yes I did - but Skype is better anyway!
ReplyDelete