Fannin Street - Poem by Cortnee Howard
Serene, sorrel scrubbed and bright,
even at noon; someone else taking the
short, furtive steps. I go on noticing.
Again the clipped and seeping August light.
Where has all of this sadness
“Look away, why don’t you? ” the blind
man mutters. “Leave it all behind;
surely you are better
than this.” And I am-
I cannot help but turn back to remark upon
tightly wound coolness of day;
upon the way the windows
rise and fall; upon the way the
young couple gathers their newspaper from
in the same way we might have.
© 2007 by Cortnee Howard
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