REACHING

A coronet sounds fresh into air

like rain from a troubled sky,

slipping sharp past

an open apartment window,

past jealous

earthbound curtains,

chipped paint

and neglected flowers,

over a fire escape

where the fluid of sound

tumbles down metal stairs

past girls smoking cigarettes

and snapping gum

crossing corners

where garbage cans

stink of last week

as it makes a turn past

a metal pole

into an alley

dotted with moldy puddles,

broken bottles

and paper scraps

where the sound settles

on the ears of a sleeping

drunk who smiles.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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