I feel you in my dreams like pepper of a course grind.
I close my eyes and rewind, afraid of sleep.
I know the steps, the way of the road
Each imperfection in the path.
I know the way the pebbles piled at the edge of the stoop lay against one another…
Your torn sneakers beside them- worn but still wearing.
These moments- I’ve already tasted, touched, and thrown up
But I tell myself they are new.
The memories file into the train under the earth with such contact
Colliding with an understanding brush
They are behind me, shoulder to shoulder, filed carefully.
Hidden in the open.
I tell myself I am here- present and growing
Mind knowing. AWARE!
Stand clear of the closing doors, lets meet at the pin.
Question is- when did this all begin?
Poetry
1 Likes
1282 Views
Share: