Ueno Station
broken spines zag
from civic shrubbery;
sable wings
somewhere between
buzzard and bat
mindlessly flap
in wind and rain
puddling, like grief
itself: the umbrella
holds its cold
tasseled handle
toward you—
broken spines zag
from civic shrubbery;
sable wings
somewhere between
buzzard and bat
mindlessly flap
in wind and rain
puddling, like grief
itself: the umbrella
holds its cold
tasseled handle
toward you—