There are, as in a crime, soiled mysteries,
broken faces lit from below by trash-can fires.
I follow clues that stir and shift
with each panicky breath of wind:
blood on a sleeve, a smell like lilacs,
rumors of your devious kisses.
All things bend toward oblivion.
With my collar darkly turned up
against the barbaric cold,
you may not recognize me anymore
when we finally meet.
I wait for you under a lonely street lamp,
a gun resting next to my heart.

Howard Good is coordinator of the Journalism Program at the State University of New York at New Paltz. He is the author of six books, including Girl Reporter (1998) and The Drunken Journalist (2000). His poetry has appeared in Midstream, Dalhousie Review, Stirring, and other publications.

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