At Night in the Floating City

 At night in the floating city

gargoyles stretch, crawling

from architecture, swelling

across arching bridges

Young women wake

to their own words

like insects they wander

with purpose

They weep into silver buckets

carried to the garden

with simple grace, tears for moonflowers

and gardenias

Night passes softly as swanskin

’til the light of morning spreads

like bolts of scarlet, unwound

002 (2)

For Kate.

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