4-30-2014

Old teeth,
graven
with

remembered

terrifying
   shadows,

impossibly;

curves
    in
carved
steel,

having had
left in me
old spring,
and,
still,
worn upward
from dredged pockets,

cold wrists,

slivered semicircles
forged
among
leaf tips.

They have had me,

thieving straightaways;

memorized

edges of saplings;

late avenues of molten leaf litter;

the leather strops

of empty municipal parks.