Fresh Quarters

Velvet shadows, bleeding hearts, and rue
the size of sparrows.

Stonewalls, ethereal avalanches, and other
intrusions limit poets.

Lines keep moving further south, and list
in the sweet balance.

Goodbye silvered clouds of flesh, and yes:
we left New Orleans.

. . . . .

Poet: Susan Powers Bourne
Source: Women.Poets.Louisiana
Process: Pick and mix cento