Overnight Or was it not Green ragged cloth had fallen On the path The way I took had velvet on the horns I peered straight through And saw the shrinking frame Collapse and bloom And choke on its vast ornate teeth I would cry out If it were not so late I do not remember you Perfect sphere Chlorine smell Painting that was damaged in the hold Imagine that a propane tank When squarely struck Becomes a bell Yet huddles by the driveway in the cold