Friday, May 6, 2016


Crime Scene

Yellow cordon of tape hums
low in a stiff breeze down
from Saginaw Bay
a norther that scatters
empty evidence markers
the length of Miller Road
Dupont Street alive in eddies
uncapped and droning
lost for words this morning
working my way through
another pallet of water
dead poets urgent
as specks of blue sky
box kites above a crime scene
easing the truck past
houses of the common
abandoned down Whitman
transcendence, surely
for the forbearing souls
over on Emerson.

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