Jackdawed

gilded circles

we shared 

a faceless

life

time

ago

I see

from my tiny

double pained

horizon

roisterers

wandering

drunk

in lead crystal

finery

and

faux fur

their circles

intact

mine

left open

alone

rusting

on the sidewalk

It is here

I rest

weathering

withering

wrought

until 

a hollow boned

passing glance

snares

 my edges

glint

my circle

 pinched

for a season's

nesting glamour

well kept

high above

a solitary cigarette 

floating

over

my reflection

in the puce oil glimmer

below 

NaPoWriMo  Day 2

*Photo credit to Alex Baker Photography