Mark My Words Again 2, @PumpHouseArts

One Night In Northeast Minneapolis,

By Terry Scott Niebeling


On the western horizon hung white-violet light.

Just before dusk, just before night.


Outside arctic breeze whipped clawed tops of leafless trees.


On the ground snow-pack stood a foot deep; booted pedestrians crossed icy streets.

I rested back on bent knees, transfixed: at work, at peace, at ease.


On my mind ideas of being set free: thoughts of flying east.

Only a piece of glass stood between.


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