Saturday, March 19, 2011

The Guy Next Door-By Mysticsilks

The guy next door
rakes leaves while
the cold February winds blow.
Shes gone,
back to Burton, he said,
the other day standing at my door
shifting nervously
from foot to foot
not really knowing what to say.

Today, he holds
the cold wood handle,
a slump to his shoulders
as he works at gathering
the scattered leaves,straining his back.

His thoughts run like leaves tossed
and tortured before a February wind,
as he tries to rake them
into a neat pile to burn.

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