Forward - Edit 1

[Wjames]

Crossing guard whistles
honk a mother's tears,
balloons in autumn
rise and burst.

I struggle not to turn.

The twitching finger
of a surgeon or a cowboy
in pale light, the heart surge
after touching eyes with a future lover
on the walk to work
shattered glass
is swept into a bin.

First Version:
Crossing guard whistles
pierce drum skin,
balloons in autumn
rise and burst.

I struggle not to turn.

The twitching finger
of a surgeon or a cowboy
in pale light, the heart surge
after touching eyes with a future lover
on the walk to work,
shattered glass
is swept into a bin.