© 2015 Madelaine Nerson Mac Namara
Night and day keep
tugging at sleeves
who dares run out
join in their play?
Who reads the mind
of autumn skies
when cities bathe
in noisy grime?
Who waits on old
gaunt foreigners
hawking roses
in restaurants?
What silence sings
when drivers ask
their car radios
to speak for them?
Who takes the hint
of those who breathe
all is over
we are leaving?
Who will whisper
to late lovers
no longer wait
you are the time?
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