Thursday, April 23, 2015

Outside Virgin, Utah, in a Purple Light

The stone bouquet remains, the rest
Is memory falling in awe
Of a moment's memorial.

The silhouette of the dark barn
On the hill made to resemble
An actual moment of time

Keeps on delineating light
Such as no eye could configure
In pulses to stained-neuron brains.

I would like to apologize
For the wavering. The desert
Around hushed streams absorbs the night.

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