At the corner you disappeared.
Clouds took you, the sort that
echo murky wine. Broken
stones gifted a toothy smile –
not one tree
made a sound.
Blue lines, fanning east and less
than west, drew forward. Not blue,
nor gray, black, almost. A shift of
shadows.
Drew forward, reached, withdrew.
Your footprints
like orange skin’s bitter bite
traced a shudder.
kj20aug09
