Riptide

Poem By Norma Cole


There's a shadow over the city
the light, as usual, framing and erasing

Just say you
dream fires each
night smoothing each
collapsing page from

the throat talking
in a series
of measures in
the high desert

the perfect life
in a series
of measured gestures
an invitation to

see the world
from a bridge
that burns in
the next night

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