Potatoes 3

         chimes
Wind            
           -less  attic

Eulogy,
Men read
from their palms

Polished boots,
wearing the right
one,in the left

Heaven's door;
he says,it's the
mood swings

Subway,
Faces paler
than recent death

Starry night
before I woke up,
I'm told

Moving past
the showers,the
sky in folds

Rising with
an elevator,
the reflected sun

Beach side,
old lady
builds her first house

Back exit
of a theatre, tears
and crumpled tickets