Thursday, August 15, 2013

Michael Cluff- A Poem

Howard Sheridan

Dad and I
discussed riboflavin
and jacarandas
quadrilles in Burgundy
and hoary frost.

The toast took on
an extra dash
of graininess
the red peppers
deeply reflected the sliver
of sun uncovering
from a mauve and puse sky.

And then moved on
back into quadrilateral squares
and formicaed doormats
safely encompassing
sweat socks
leg garters
tennis shoes
and tassled loafers.

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