the night was ok here in st paul…

what a night.
one to still breathe in
fresh air out there.
thankful, i do care…
for the cold brown beans,
for the expensive warm heat,
for the voided leave-less trees–
they make this
sort of explosion
of a thousand fingertips
in the fore of holding their place in
some melting pale hue color of shadowed bone,
the sun is gone tho.
friends and kin die alone; now alone.
even thankful for that
and the cat.
and mosquitoes: minnesota bats
where you at?
between making it and i cant.
thankful i am in the midwest
not religious, but blessed.
not tired, no rest.
thankful for that still, yet.
more water from the tap
more teaching, notebook’s in lap.
filling in the gaps.
dont worry, dont clap.
what a night.
what a night.
thankful it’s free to me.
thankful have it be.

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