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familiar.

In corners of my mind that should be unoccupied I find you lurk.

 

In crowds of people, unfamiliar, I see your face.

Fleeting usually, please stay.

 

Canyons carved now, rivers running down.

From where I don’t know.

 

Are you at the top?

The bottom?

 

In unlit allies, there you are.

Are you lost?

I wish you could belong with me.

 

Fingertips don’t linger, I don’t mind.

But sometimes I wish they could stay a little longer.

 

Frenzy all the time.

No matter, I’ve lost you in the crowd again.

 

I hope, I think, that you’ll come back

but the smile as you leave warms my heart.

 

you don’t turn around.

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Written by
margaret-bailey-turner
American
Published
Oct 2, 2011
Lines·Words
17·110
Permission

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