shadows stretched so far by the light

become broken into pieces

dark fragments picked up by crows

tool makers, thieves of secrets, and other corvids

stolen wisdom hidden

in the shatters and tatters of shade

these slipped between bricks in the sidewalk

stones in the walls, cracks in the street

find one and take it home to the night

who knows what reward you will find in a dream

to be here, to walk the cold streets

to enter a busy shop, to sit at the windswept market

kindness a delicate net fashioned with intent

to hold the butterfly of a smile

there it is, just now, and as you walk away

you feel the brush of wings upon your heavy heart

and let it open like a child’s outstretched hand

ready with wonder for what alights

this happens at any age

some do not live to be older

you lift a cup to your mouth

but it is now filled with these

a jagged brown capybara tooth

your grandmother’s pocket knife

an arcade token for the pinball machine

a handkerchief that still smells of pomade

you pour them out onto the table

run the memories through your fingers

then realize you’ve been lost in time

your hands are wet with tea

your face wet with tears

the sound of the falling rain

washes through the night