The End

[nuages]

And so it is that I leave you-
the body rebelled with heavy dread
and the dead faces
that swim in the night, obscured
by the sickly light of morning.
Days have wrenched you out of me.

The weight of a winter
bathes the body of a boy
sleeping soundlessly with the traffic.
The wait of winter
presents itself in a tangle
of weeds.
Remorse sleeps soundlessly
in his bones.

-March 5, 2005