Saturday, November 7, 2020

depth

The sun just sits there

saying nothing while

the sparrows rush the feeders,

the trees swaying wild 

in the dreams of the drive by wind.

The light stumbles down the stairs,

the day lands hard upon 

the humiliation, shining 

all akimbo awkward,

dimming and bright enough to

silhouette the scenery,

leaf and limb, wing and feather

as the distance dives farther,

away another word

filling in until the feeling 

finds us out, all the lonely 

stories in the world

all the clever words

driven deeper though

all it is is cold hands and

the absence of a kiss.

 

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