I left glove a box
a red rose left a mirror
I turn in a night
soften radio
truest blueness a nest of
Debussy Satie
near a burning cord
center hearth mantl’d cantos
Maria’s diamenders
Poetry
I left glove a box
a red rose left a mirror
I turn in a night
soften radio
truest blueness a nest of
Debussy Satie
near a burning cord
center hearth mantl’d cantos
Maria’s diamenders