The Night Confessor

The ground is mistaken
You are no contender
For the glittering prize
Awarded for glass walkers
On unpatterned steps
Designed to obscure

The house overlooking
In twilight mistaken
Yellow-tooth kitchen
And bedroom blue eyes
Which talk to the garden
In whispers of light

The moon condescends
To mistake the gravel
For a carpet of crushed glass
The fence of car doors closing
Tells tales of the footsteps
Secret meetings in amber

October 2011

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