Air Currents / The Gold Jacket
What could I say
with you beside me
Your heatbeat counts
the seconds
I listen close
as we curl under the
air currents of the
night through the window
#poetry
The gold Jacket
The golden chrysalis jacket fluttered down the street against the black and gray buildings, like a flame flicker. It decreases as it pulls away from view. Snap awake the bird seller who installs the need in us for jungle green and cucumber white feathers, but not that jacket of dandelion flash blowing down Spring Garden in evening wind, or rotation on large opinions of broken threads, and blank patterns shifting in the breeze of summer's draining light. A suggestion to the fashion profession. Cloth wings that vanish in the black holes of unoriginal wing wearers. #freewriting