High Modern

You have known no expanse like this.

One window frame

Harmonics from some unseen trumpeter

Across time pushing us past what was grave

While a twitterpated sparrow barrels out

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With all tools, desire channels through

Hope the hammer hammers home

And the nail nails down

Firmament for a baby nursery.

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You may think grandly of steel girders, bridges.

Don’t.

The best tool for breaking frames: one frenzied hand

With the certainty of leave-taking.