ohdearno.

let the pages
fall open
to the answer the
long shores
of each night
crash there
hair colored the
stone monuments put
on hold
the dreams
of morning light
are
dull shears
and the paper
birds eat only
holy ghosts
all day long in the
shadow of
elm trees,
the rescinded
living- the icon elm
brought down by what is
truly grievance, truly
mortal and
pleasing purple tin.