old night

old night old tumulus night
old blanket night warm me
too much the day brittle
has cracked in the eye —
birds and bark wet leaves
break from the snow and I
so much called to attend
must mend what light
has torn asunder —
the pink walls the green
fence the black road
that hurls itself between
his and his hers and hers
and the swift demarcation
of it loud and not dependent

Image: Nima Pourebrahimi on Unsplash

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