Saturday, November 20, 2010

216

It comes to you in a drawing of a cottage on a river
on the hotel walls-

In a man with a beard
and a bandana at the bar in the diner.

The rust smell that blows through
the window of the car before rain.

It comes to you and forgets about itself
to the furniture that knows you,
but won't move unless you tell it to.

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