When Our Men Become Skeletons

Struggle to find a point,
thread through an eye
of a different shape, keep
trying… Arrival,

overnight guests.
Undetected, ready, close
we found ourselves
in the space —long,

empty…canned music,
chairs upside-down
on tables echoing lost
inspiration. Not

a dream, running
through lit cigarette
smoke, looking out
windows: the Rockies

secure pine shadows,
form a wreath
around cold hands
by the time I had bones …




One thought on “When Our Men Become Skeletons

  1. vivid images of frustration, and wanting, especially “running/through lit cigarette/smoke, looking out/ windows: the Rockies” which make me think of magnificent, cold mountains and, later, “cold hands.”

    Liked by 1 person

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