the stroll

keep me hidden.

coffee shop napkin in
an ordinary backpack
with an overburdened
zipper line gone so
curved; do examine
hopefulness the way
Miss Long Time Ago
taught us to separate
points from softness,
petals from blades of
grass leaving their
mark on white pockets
not too far from hearts
unprepared for cold.

fatigue is a lightbulb
dying each time we
stretch the wet towel
only to sigh as it laughs
somewhat weakly, for
it won’t be long before
we stand before mirrors
or some semblance of
a frozen lake, crevices
blooming sarcastically
as we turn a dozen pages
filled with recluses we
only think resemble us
if we erased every smile.

so we’ll walk.

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5 thoughts on “the stroll

  1. A captivating poem with amazing heart and soul visuals and one of my favorites. ๐Ÿ™‚

    Apologies for my absence. It’s been tough last year not being as active as I should have. I have kept you and your book in mind. Next week I’ll start writing the review for your book. I still owe you. ๐Ÿ™‚ Hope all is well with you.

    Liked by 1 person

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