L a u r e n   G o r d o n

 

 

Your poem is putting a sheet over his head

eye-holes cut-out

 

and he is knocking on the doors of strangers,

asking for candy

 

and he is tripping over a steep step

of concrete to ring a bell

 

and he glows in the wind,

floats.

 

 

 

copyright 2014 by Lauren Gordon