Reading Through Tears Poem by Warren Falcon

though curtains darked

allow some sun to pass

noon's now well into darkness


too, the day wells on


Fortune's last nerve's

a winter dove


loo-looo

loo

loo

loo


just who

is it who loos-

es?


one icicle

the last from

last week's

early a.m.

altering?


it or something

within or

beyond it

perhaps beneath

it

it

surmises

insists what

remains of

postponement


relents

one wet

(which goes
without saying

'wet's wet in
all a world of
wet' - G. Hopkins)

one

heavy

drop

slips the

grab metal


Or so

rumor goes


this seeming

here


falls

unheard

which

me I

believe

it did

when it

calved

met

the

walk or

stoop

or bounced

lightly


shattered

to the

basement

door


here dove's

brooding on

breath by

breath

so close

the mono-tone