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Staples

Howard Altmann

I empty the years
till they fill the days,
walk the sky
till I find my footing;
listen to music
till it plays the silence back.

Once
tall buildings weren’t shadows
drinking light,
water towers a drawing of the night;
silhouettes didn’t hold
the details of being.

The spoon in the bowl
was the glass on the table,
the leaves in the bin
the snow on the ground;
melancholy was never running
out of milk.