undisgarded

 




the sunsets have
turned Hemingway
red

the moon is drunk
on martinis and
stagger home
through the
night sky

my dreams hold me in
their hands as if i
were an empty
candy bar
wrapper

thoughts become
vermin in a
church as
another
cigar
burns

and time lays as
thin as the
footprints
of a robin
in falling
snow

yet, somehow,
someway

we all
endure

we all
go on

we all
find a
way