why

frosted glass and cross hatch

obscure the moon’s observance

the little one in candy boots

playing in the rain

songs are penned on garbage day

she wipes the water from her eyes

rejection and collection dance

in puddles by the road

for all the if i could have been

fluorescing indecision blooms

give shelter to a colored flash

beyond a window pane

songs are sung without the pen

the barrels all but empty

such beauty i will never see

thru frosted glass again