The gatekeeper was replaced when the final page turned.
Bloodless shadow now seeping through
to eat away at light that was already dying...
A breeze down the street brings it all
the smell of hot window screens and withering grass
of a field between our dreams and a chance to taste them...
The cobbler stands out front of his shop
Smoking a cigarette on the street corner
And I’m thinking how close he is to a storybook character
Maybe he is one...
A cold city speaks of storybooks
Cracks in the pavement spell out the final chapters
Footsteps in the snow dotting i’s and crossing t’s
A saga complete with no voice to read it aloud
Yet heard by all who stop to listen.