standing by a bed

quiet, then
dog bark
Fort avenue is empty
all its
ghosts- powder at noon,
the bright after rain is
glowing again
wild in this absence,
some thing is
waiting
to collect
around each lost
soul, palmed
vapor, endless sugar, coffee cups
it is here that one
can be
rising and defeated,
known by copper
collapsed,
the
near concrete, speaks
as
house
after house is
wreaked in slices
time for this sort
lunch, breaks loosely
& today
we have chosen to raise
a
whole
union of spirits
to ritualize the
simplest snow, turn a heard
raindrop
crystalline and tear
at this thinnest vale, noon.