Night like a bruise goes away again

It’s too hard to find any angel
before the fall, to meet someone
who won’t ask What’s in it for me?
after Hello. But please, just one

lucky parking space in the crowded garage
because you’re running late? Just a little
ordinary quiet in the coffee shop instead
of the voice of one mother boasting

to another but loud enough so the whole
room can hear about her kid’s early
acceptance at some private college
and the summer internship she has

on Wall Street? In the alley sometimes
you see an orange tabby with three legs
limping along like nothing’s the matter;
then the two black cats that come out

of the yellow house to roll around with it
in the grass. Do they think of the captivity
of their bodies or question which of them
has more of a right to disturb the dust?


In response to Via Negativa: Morning thaw.

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