Overnight or was it not
Green ragged cloth
Had fallen on the path
The way I took had velvet on the horns
I peered straight through
And saw the shrinking frame
Collapse and bloom
And choke on its vast ornate teeth
I would cry out
If it were not so late
I do not remember you
Perfect sphere
Chlorine smell
Painting that was damaged in the hold
Imagine that a propane tank
When squarely struck
Becomes a bell
Yet huddles by the driveway in the cold