ON GREENHOUSE GLASS

.

.

I see I settled

It would faintly be a fate

(Freedom, comes a sweet release)

But I had settled

With wait.

.

Where our hours had hard like hours

And landfilling them

Sets the sadder shadowed facets of silence

To stem.

.

Hey, yr own old whore,

Before you defile

Yr dreamily dark greenhouse

Pitching

Both words and stark sticks & stones,

Get a hard look

On each hard paned reflection