they gleam in the flashing neon light
of a place you'll never be.
I built ice castles in your memory there
then tore them down
remembering.
in this dungeon
I count the days on the wall
now one solid color.
the rain collects at my feet in a puddle
in which I can no longer see my reflection.
Paul David Mena
28 September 1993
Albany, NY
