Sunday, February 8, 2015

we are gypsies

we are gypsies
gone in the night
stole your heart and your sweater
left before the first light

folding laundry
making neat stacks
clean clothes
humming to the radio
playing housewife
she knows, looking out
snow, ice, parking lot
through a veil of condensation
she won't look out again
not out this window
not on this world

she folds
folds her childrens clothing
folds her hands together
folds her cards
she's out
and it's so easy

that girl
dark haired
raven skinned
gold and dust
folded as neatly as a shirt
she takes up less space in the heart

that boy
beautiful
and sweet
memories, tucked up like socks
trunk at the foot of the bed

if you fold the right way
you can pack your life
all up in cracker boxes
fill the bed of a pickup
don't even need uhaul
just go



nostalgia bites
wind blows snow
temperatures below zero
yet another day

we are gypsies,
she says it to herself
softly
no one hears

our life moves, she says
like the night moves
pack up the pictures
off the wall, off the fridge
there will be other walls
other fridges

she'll fall in love again
under the light of a different sky
shots called by foreign stars


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