Stars On Shrouds
Last burned-out lights of the great
skyscape's embrace, shimmer suit-tie
dinner jacket blackness, thought of better
cleared falling forest steeple pine days.
Days of warmth drying on coat boot
leather in shades of dying steel,
crossing you as Catholic mistress,
wine stains on frayed dress stitching.
Stitching hem-cloth of ageless
form woven hair ribbon pleating,
decorative mantelpiece upon half-painted
wall, something to hang in life's absence.
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