on curbs

Chip McFlennigan

the once-mighty winds that defined chicago and the tsunamis
and earthquakes that strike smaller islands
cannot move me like your smile
moved me

the dark black violet blues of countryside midnights and the
suffocating canaries of coal mine history
and the jutting bruised
snow-capped mountains
surrounding the swallowed turnpikes
cannot even grab my attention

and yes
i still have that picture of you
in my wallet
and yes, it's still torn

the once-perfect skyscrapers silverly
reflecting those of us on manhattan's curbs
and the once-proud skylines
of all major cities simply make me think of cemeteries
since you're not around

justam

I keep torn pictures in my wallet too.

Annafalk

Nice poem, thank you