Wrapping us up in her cool hands.
Darkness sways and hums.
Before you go and slip away.
Please say how the story ends.

“Rockaway”. she will say. “Rockaway.”

Iridescent wisps of hair
Float in darkened forms and stares.
Coats like ladies watching in chairs.
Reminiscent of somebody there.

“Rockaway. hey. Rockaway. Rockaway.”

We’ve come to the close of the book.
The story lingers awhile.
As dots of dust hang in the air.
Landing in corners overlooked.

“Rockaway. now. Rockaway. Rockaway.”
“Rockaway. now. Rockaway. Rockaway.”

“Rockaway. Rockaway.”