Hopper

Brains of a dray horse,
swallowing the end of the day
A trash can Sinatra blue.
Sinking you.

The night mimes back,
as you tell the world your tale.
If you had company for keeping,
they’d be a broken heart.

Come tomorrow morning,
you’ll hide the sun again.
Stoning the crows.
If they ever bothered to show.