February mornings
Tense as they were the
Dawn late the
Light from another room
Shivering felt like the edges of
adulthood
Singing morning song into a
Sunrise over the California
freeway
Personal memory of cultural
memory
With eyes half-lidded tires over
expansion joints
Could have been leg rattles
Or my own brittle shell
Drilled
Filled with pebbles
Shaken in this dance
Songs that curve like memory
Songs
Unheard but spinning in as I
walked those halls
Memory marked me out
Tense
In dawnlight
More shadow than not
Freighted with memory songs
Post written by: Kim Schuck
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