dog crap dries in the sun
in this place
this spinning place
gathering uncertainty in my arms
arms of needing
and not having
of stumbling
and crying
in dry laundry
wondering if fall is coming
alone in its coolness
color falling from trees
and needing
to be numb
of her movement
falling from my chest
falling from my eyes
her sound of blue skies
and crisp air
and of kicking this dog crap
high and wide
and away
and falling.
Sep 28, 2015 @ 09:22:19
Just stopping by to read my favorite poet. That’s all. 🙂
Jan 10, 2016 @ 14:24:02
How did I miss your comment? 🙂 Thanks, My brain has been mush.