The Beacon
Weekend
Alex Reavis
Pointing fingers and
Pointed looks reveal
More than can be said
With small words and mouths.
Puddles reflecting
Neon filled mirrors
With gross potential.
​
Sidestepping splashes
And stepping aside
For trash can drumming,
Singing men. Notions
Revealed quietly
By hands and streetlight.
Crowded walks and minds
Cleared by night, light touch.
​
Time moving sideways.
Commercial breaks and
Midnight car alarms
Making rhythm from
Beating hearts quickly
Losing distinction
Of the two apart.
​
Eventual sleep.
Not at first or much,
But enough to wake,
Morning breath and grins
Spread across light teeth.
​
Movie theaters,
Where joking and dark
Encouraged by day
And night lead to touch
Ending with the war.
Lights and people rise
While the white words fall
And fail to come clear.