we had a dream about wolves again
They bit into the tires of cars
drug flowers through the streets
while we watched from our kitchens
Our knives vibrated in drawers
We couldn’t decide whether the dream
was good or bad Dalton Day, “Battlefield,” published in Radius (via bostonpoetryslam)
I never knew that swans
lived down by the docks,
or that I might find pearls
if I looked in the sky.
I’ve been traveling through hills
that were mountains once;
and maybe again if they tried.
This day dawned purple,
with a sky made of glass.
Tomorrow could be a galaxy
shade of blue, if I try.