Memory Torques - Opening City
memory
torques
into soft
teas
June
steeps
turns
steaming
said window
(and torsos)
said prints
views obscured
of nothing
in particular
or special,
but
troubles,
troubles only
of passing birds
enamored-of
(their lighter
bones)
or
are they
cloud and shadow,
merely the steep
sun declining ashen
into the Jersey side?
poem by Warren Falcon
Added by Poetry Lover
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