So that forgetting might come

Early Morning Somewhere

Early morning Sedona or Mexican Hat,
the light a murmuration of dragon skin
asleep on your back, your bare arms goosed
with cool flesh an open window allows.

Horses restless in an otherwise empty pen,
wind on chain on a fulcrum globed in black
iron and the absence of everything apparent
like the brevity we keep to share together.



The road endures our lassitude, waits like
the feralbone cat we fed coldcuts to as we
parked just the night before, the crown
of its graceless back purring arched motors.

Coffee, kisses, some shared words, the pulling
moment smeared in the rearview. The windshield
spreads the future before us like a present, torn
and ribboned by our ruthless unwrapping.

So many mornings in the world, every day
so many more. We leave them to others so
that forgetting might come, the endless
reminder that nothing holds on for long.

Joseph Gallo
November 4, 2011