Monday, December 07, 2009

The Dreams that Come Between Us

Last night I saw four foxes
flashing in the highbeams of a gun truck,
dashing across those cratered
highways of northern Iraq
into the dark desert.


I dreamed of chasing fox tails.
I dreamed thin fingers and piano keys
and an empty violin case.

I dreamed dust-quiet songs
falling on the tongues of forgotten shoes.

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