25 December

t h i s  i s  n o t  m y  h o l i d a y
as for churchgoers or the charged bloom of youth
late afternoon perched behind the wheel of the old wagon
spilling tailpipe apparitions across the st. john's bridge
the clouds have fallen low on forest park
white smoke of poemfablemysterymemoryecstacy
quiet drizzle streets hum past
refineries and steel plants
one speaker - poor radio reception
without an antenna bursts of talkradio
prick the silence
the bookstore lights on burnside
between aisle and page
between heart and tongue
a palpable iridescence
the shiny underside of a leaf before the rains
the perfume of tangerines
as fingers pry off the sticky peel
I walk in silence among the trees

©2005 Jonathan Blakeslee