Little Plastic Toys
The carnivals from which came have now all
packed up,
leaving behind the tallowed perfume of rv exhaust,
of stale hay in the parking lot behind the hospital.
What has fallen
now lays broken,
without a guardian to
reassemble
the hero-light
to which it spills.
And the rain shall pass
overhead
in a quick blanket
of dark coils
and we hope with the
coming winter
the snow maintains
to the earth
so that we can return in the spring.
I have, without,
remorse gathered the leaves
around her
tightly and caustic.
The harvest has been excused
tonight.
the wet roots lay undistrubed,
the blueprint
unaltered.
The direction of her voice
remains
static
we travel together
unassisted by light.
angel-things
keep the damaged
warm within their
wings.
How do you celebrate
a sacrifice
for which leaves no trace of the
host being
intact. There are no dust puddles
to be written into history.
Nothing but an engnamtic gasp
paused in the infinity
of light.
Never have the animals roamed so freely
never have they been so
hungry.
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