unsolicited, unpublished stuff

a poem from 1999 - unsolicited, unpublished.

back to the salt mines in the morning, so this will be the last post for this week, more than likely.
not much else to report, so i'll keep this entry short and simple.



LETTERS FROM A NEW MOON

where old furniture gathers dust
ghosts have scribbled her name.

the wind steals the color
from the roses on her table,
puts it in the cheeks of children
that play along the same river
she once walked.

the river, though, has changed
& the dreams the black birds now carry
are as mysterious to her
as the letters on her desk
without signature.