This is the kind of note You should destroy after reading Scrabble pieces in a cup Spilled out across The worn parquetry of meaning Tear it from the book The ragged seam almost invisible, but Now the pages Never sit quite flat The teardrop bowing of lacuna A whistle elongated between Fingers placed uncouthly in the mouth Saliva wet Shrilling in that forest way Of sunlight and warning Decanting through the myrrh and honey branches A cat grows in sunshine Poached eggs, an insistent wind Left over from the barbarity of desert summer Small clouds dragged across the sky The eclipse almost fatal On thick toast for late breakfast Flour dusting The distance almost serene Between then and now Crumple, discard, forget Almost, once upon a time Someone died today
