Posts
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Gym Dust: A Moment of Early Morning Observation
There are puddles of cottonwood
on the floor of my vacant high school gym
one cloudy Tuesday morning,
a few countable weeks before summer.
The soft seeds spread out like a thin layer of ocean foam, -
Storm Drain
The open street smells like a thunderstorm.
I’m not sure where he went
or where I’m going
or why I’m standing here on the damp sidewalk,
watching the sun creep up on us.
It feels good, -
One I Found
I’m waiting for the day
the sun doesn’t rise.
I’m sure it will be like any other:
cold dew on the grass,
coffee in the morning,
quietly waking in the dark
to pull on thick knit sweaters -
Who?
This was supposed to be a poem for me.
At least, it was when I started.
Maybe it's a little ironic
to start with how it wasn't supposed to be started
and tell you anyway.
You've always had a fascinating -
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