Friday, December 11, 2009

Communication


Communication

No rain for several weeks.
Sand, dry, loose,
Black shoes became whitened with dust.
A letter was stuck in a tuft of dried grass,
On the back, where letter was sealed,
A lipstick print of opened lips.
He picked the envelope up,
The address was gone.
He opened the letter,
The ink had faded away.
The page was blank.


Duane Locke

Posted over on Autumn Leaves