Upon a fear
He spun me; a fly in
spider swaddling,
Coral-curled, breath
padding desert cave,
Nails pushed to palm.
Sieve keepsake
cabinets for sentiment -
But you're not there.
Entire avenues are
leafleted, rocks raised,
Neither in the
morning.
Dawn on linen,
Arousing hums of some
salad sojourns,
As sun draws steam
from last night’s single shower.
The rain has gone.
Droplets refresh yarn
master, shiver web.
Repairs are made.
It’s all mapped out
in meteorology,
Before the clouds
Where is my fear?
Cars lick streets in
whispered waves of tide tables,
Gulls gather over
refuse racks of yesterdays,
The sea has gone.
And now. And now is virtually arrived.
Forecast your dead,
One in one out,
ignoring watches
There are no losses.
New clouds evolve,
Palpating
photographs, their creators
Enter Museums of Apparatuses.
Forgotten lens;
Tired technician
scrawls an explanation,
Abstruse the use,
Another,
dusting, places placards wrongly,
Goes unmentioned.
Where is the rain?
In alien drizzle, howled by galactic gale,
Unwatched by poet’s pen
- unforecast -
It steals a sea.
Charity shelves brim
full with ex-mementos,
The fear has gone.
Dried arachnids
debris-dance along the sill,
My love won’t leave.
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