The sleepy streets blend
The overcast sky.
Wearing your line,
Wearing your line,
Limp and fragile
Strolling through the bank,
Sitting next to a railway.
Luring grey—the sunrise.

Emptiness echoes
The footprints. Sheets
To wash their dress.
Molting feathers
Floating like coral.
A dot white speckled black,
Cream and pastels
Diminish it dull.

Forget the immigrants,
The innocence.
Ties lie in soil.
Greats send blankets,
But blend in the grass.
For mulling over.
For rest in disclosure,
Stifle the belt
Of the foraged brooch.
Broken tandem.
Steerage. The bridge.
The moon that haunts in white.
I howl.