Dull brown, and quietly dying
Wet by the afternoon drizzle
Wickerwork against the sky.
Where had you been so long?
Splotches of mud on the rim of your boots
Tiptoe in. Hush. Ballerina.
Eyes slit thin when you smile.
I have been waiting alone.
Come, with our hands reft of meaning
Come, when you’re due somewhere else.
Dead leaves shall hold back the sky -
Where had we been so long?
Dull gold, and quiet in denying,
We’ll soak in the grey of the evening
We’ll drift by the goldfish on sidewalks:
And we shall be waiting alone.
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