Sunlight sounds of clean silverware
Trucks ease from intersection
Tables set for another day
Hours from dawn they argued over
Bailing out and proper attire
An empty fountain
Relieved of the birds
He repeated grammatical rules
While words lettered their way
Approaching old acquaintances
Everyone shaking heads to the
Same solemn rhythm
Like an ice cube sliding towards hell
And no one left to fight fire with fire
She sweeps ashes into a cool breeze
Shuffles cast iron furniture
Out of memory’s basement
The glue still drying
To things attempted to be said
So many years
Between the air and the intention
Someone left the windows down
Or open
Whichever makes sense of sensation
Blowing hair in awkward positions
It isn’t worth thinking too hard
Imagine the smell of dead ladybugs
Suddenly to a breakfast nook
A blue house
A neighbor you never try hard enough
To remember
A smell as obvious as starting a family
No one ever dug the garden
The corn was just there one day
Something new to avoid with the mower
Something symbolizing hope
To be reminisced into significance
Alone with the empty table
Crowned in mid-day sun
On the verge of an event
More concrete
Than surprise yields
So we gather now
Setting letters aside
To offer legible flesh
Born of separate tongues
A new language
The first word
Pregnant with other words
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