There is a penny
in all its tender worth
lying face down
on the path
thru narrow city streets
that bind all that is sacred
in this moment
over bridges of howling hope
into a lop-sided tomorrow
There is the naked body of dead love
a well-defined tone
of amber-rage fear
lying face up
cold-cocked with madness
into the shallow grave of yesterday
A lone streetlight
traces the shadow of your footsteps
in copper haze on the sidewalk
of a comfortable pause
taken to remember
your hands
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Tami