Studying Early

derelict satellite—

This city neverburningsunflowers

reaches silence, each promised

quiet soon broken.

x

You hear it trying

hardest when morning light is

dim like a theatre

x

before the curtain

opens. Then it’s birds (mostly)

who can’t swallow songs,

x

but someone always

happens onto this scene, new

and not so tired

x

of noise as I am—voices

better set for use.

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