September 11, 2011

I want you here
during this damp night
chorused by insects
in safe caverns of grass.

Because winter has yet to arrive,
they sing layers below clear skies.

I want you here free
from the regret of walking
the elegant shades of future
that hue the present a broken blue.

I want you here, your hand cupped
in mine, until you understand
my many motions are the brunt end
of the small breathes you taught me.

Because your summer is around
the corner, I listen to the layers.

LOCATION: Wayne, Nebraska – Sitting barefoot on my parents’ porch wondering if it was all just a dream. Today is the ten year anniversary of the 9/11 terrorist attacks. The news seems straight out of Orwell’s 1984.

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