coast road

and so we made it to
Sunday, the last day
of your free week:  I
am in tapestry, you
your bed -

outside the October sun
slants across all the damp
green, and a car or two
pass, birds flit by

jazz on soft, mellow,
I head to tea
and food -

later, maybe, Church
for archaic liturgy
then it will be
silence for me when
you are gone
on the coast road

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