Unsigned Ghazal


Sidewalk tree-grates catch leaves in concentric redundancies.
Someone enters the hospital familiar with routine indignities.

If autumn were a dream it would be snowing by now.
Doors open onto corridors opening onto more doors and corridors.

A gold charm from my grandmother's bracelet arrives in the mail.
In broad daylight a thief climbs the fire escape, pries the window gate loose.

Engraved in miniature are my first name and date of birth.
Drawers awry, TV, VCR, leather jacket, & assorted jewelry are missing.

At night the deaf dog wakes us from another shallow sleep.
Our own cloistered lives surround us on this starless sidestreet.