Corners, folded (Day 384)

knit of starlings and fog   a boggy mix 

of saltwater  sand  clay  long days 

of diving between pages  corners 
folded like shame  covers angled away 

from prying subway eyes and damp 

mumbling hands that grasp 

and fumble at your back pockets  

lace curtain as shawl  that lock of 

chocolate hair  curling like a fetal kitten 

in its smoke-yellowed envelope at 

the bottom of a forgotten drawer  

expectant sound of a telephone ringing at 

two o’clock in the morning  and  lingering 

in shadows beneath a persistent spruce  

the August haze  illuminated like a memory  

by the streetlight on the corner

(c) 2018, by Hannah Six

Image: NinoCare via Pixabay