Dead Reckoning

Dead Reckoning

Dead Reckoning

Dead Reckoning

Excerpt

Is there still any shadow there, on the rainwet window of
the coffeepot
between the haberdasher's and the pinball arcade
there, where we stood one night in the warm, fine
rain, and smoked and laughed and talked

Is there now any sound at all
other than the sound of tires, and motors, and hurry
ing feet
is there on tonight's damp, heelpocked pavement
somewhere the mark of a certain toe, an espe
cial nail, or the butt of a particular dropped
cigarette

(There must be, there has to be, no heart could beat if
this were not so
that was an hour, a glittering hour, an important
hour in a tremendous year)

Where we talked for a while of life and love, of logic and
the senses, of you and I, character and fate,
pain, revolution, victory and death

Is there an shadow now, at all
other than the shadows that stop for a moment and
then hurry past the windows blurred by the
same warm, slow, still rain.

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