Stamey
The sky in the face before you
A window that's always shut
Out on the stoop that pours in the night.
Cinders as you remember
How does our love burn cold
Beyond the point of letting go?
The next day the cluttered, shuttered
House at the edge of town
Cellophane gla** and overgrown gra**.
Enemy eyes in borders
Stare at the broken ash
Out on the stoop, the broken past.