I have a pair of checkered Converse
They are quite mad (I know)
But they bring a smile to faces
Wherever I may go
Poems, poets, poetry, writing, poetry challenges
The cool morning air caught and carried my breath,
With no trouble, as if it were Cochrane suited up with his glove.
I watched her as she was pushing away.
Her entire life piled up next to her in that junction.
That spot nobody wants to see in the mind’s eye.
Her entire wardrobe ticked away in a Nathan’s paper sack.
Me walking along the weight of my mail bag on my shoulder,
Was not enough to dismiss,
Or keep my thoughts away from her.