The News This Morning

Reposted from "Dirt for Sale" for Kelly's birthday

The grasses whisper my new nieces not yet known name.
The graveyard seems emptier.
The hopeless urban babies have a blue glow
Like the sky coming out of their eyes.

The fresh suits and dresses
Blowing to glass shelters
No longer seem so beset with ambition;
They are fathers and mothers playing worrisome roles
For their babies.