Tuesday, September 3, 2019

On Seeing a Lost Soul at a Distance from a Barbershop in Nelson, British Columbia

Sunlight dozes on the stairs.
A brindle bulldog
Dozes in one barber’s chair.
The barber feels this is his

Business, but he says his ex
Believes she is entitled
To part of it. Not the debts.

The ghost of an old poet,
Shadow of a former friend,
Shadows the street like a crane
Stalking a dried-up pond.

The barber lowers my ears
And fills them with his complaints.
My old poet disappears.

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