Lights above strange towns with Strange notions
I’ve seen this place in a book once drawn out
the river hopes it never thaws out
stories traced to graces on the riverbank
ice skating and Wooden hooped rings.
She always had a Angle to level playing fields.
The chronological order of a history of hats
the empty ink wells that wrote a thousand lines
the olive trees the deserted rusting pumps
of a sculptures eyes.