July 04, 2015

smudged
across my fingers
the ink I thought
would become
my best poem

*

I stand my ground
against the wasp
feigning
the courage I want
my kids to learn

*

the way
she carries another
man's scent
I'm still unaccustomed
to my new deodorant

*

the reflection
from the puddle
I stepped in
was carried away
through a hole in my boot

*

each snowflake
melts in my hand
but I can't
catch enough to
keep my sidewalk clean

No comments:

Post a Comment