Each time I look down
that street it’s another U-Haul
truck that captures my eye
for minimal detail. Dead
of winter, dead center
of the block, this month—
someone gets up and moves
away. Or it’s someone else moving
in. The weave tightens
around messages that near
miss home.
Oh, I like this one! Boomerang! The watcher being watched!
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Not only does the audience complete the poem–the audience can start the next one.
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