Found Poem (Criss Cross)
The parking lots are empty a half,
Or full a half,
Half-dozen lights,
On tall poles flickered to life,
In the thirty minutes,
It had taken them to drive,
The air has slipped,
From spring to winter,
A few more cars pulled in,
And released noisy gusts of people,
Into the chilly dry air,
Car doors slammed,
It was cold this way,
But he felt it made him look older,
Colder but older,
Older but colder,
Colder and colder,
Older and older,
The edge of night,
Moved visibly across the sky……
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