OPTIONAL POETRY

Ungrateful returns. The wind batters the gingko, a cardboard box sails by six stories up. Absence grows familiar, still, unpalatable. There’s a different sort of beauty in these geometric nights, so abstract, divorced from messy life. A light goes on, a light goes off. You wrote from London, it’s nearly dawn there, now. Or then. I still wake and wonder where I am. This sky is toothless gray, no stars for all the light but […]