What the Corner Catches

Tangle of hints:
sweet-stale smoke,
dirt-red paint,
milk-soft skin,
piano riffs and passages
underlined with pen in
dime store paperbacks.

Memory is so cheap,
so easily smoothed
to suit the mood,
to sooth the conscience.

But what lies beyond
the edge of the alley,
past the fingertip edge
of the photograph?
When the breeze rustles
the relics, when dawn
greets the door?

***

Jenny O’Grady
Writer
Age 37
Baltimore, Maryland, United States of America

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