the book

An inconspicuous library
in a forgotten country town.

The librarian won’t let you borrow it,
but you may read it in the library,
hold it in your calloused hands,
even riffle its soft pages
gently with your fingertips,
like so many have before you.

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where is the sun?

A car the color of the sunset disappears
around a corner, the sky recalls a long-ago
metropolis, and films of rain are shining
on the concrete and the bitumen,
the bushes and the trees.

I think about what I’ve done and
what I will, and wonder where’s the sun?
Am I any closer to it?

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