Friday, February 05, 2010

mcxxi

Flashback

We were looking at the lake through the eyes
of a murder.  Was it simply platonic?  I feel
okay about how we spent our impasse.  Yellow
leaves, thin, small, scattered on the walk around
the plaza.  Spigots and shrubbery, some sort of
laughing bird, the plastic hunchbacks spinning
in the noontime wind.  Didn’t she get her start
on One Day at a Time?