Our love has chosen its appropriate gesture
Which when viewed in the midst of all the gestures
It didn’t choose seems almost insignificant.

I didn’t get his name the music of the dancehall
Was point to the noise and names of those people
In whose apartment we mostly ended up: I do recall

The leaves fall, but not far enough for me,
so I take one up to the top of my favorite highrise,
the one whose TV-transmitters watch farmers.

Each pine’s sun-endowed
shadow follows April’s down-
ward flights and where a crow’s

The team goes mum, cowhided by
the rectitude to his position, the logic.