JOAN MCNERNEY

I’ve Been Re-reminded Lately

that my thoughts aren’t real. They’re clouds or falling leaves. Angels. Demons.

I see them.

I can grab them. I can encompass them. They are not me but

products I create. They could be art. They could be commerce. They could be trash. They are compostable, I think.

Zimmerman - 195

Curling into a question mark eyes shuttered lips pursed hands empty.

Dropping through long dusty shafts down into dank cellars.

Leaving behind faded day.

That last cup of sunlight pouring from fingertips. Lulled by rattling trains, sighs of motors.

McNerney - 196