Erasure “Poem at the New Year”

Clear twilight angels prevail, don’t they?
If the wind saw what had happened.

Motionless, still drops
Serene, yet lost

In the evening rush hour.
I was so bright.

Frozen tall is off center.
How it was in industrial city slipping past.

Never in line for things
And night was nite to mind,

Raised right winter, pipe smoke
outside gray windows.
Off chance, never a gesture.

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