Jun 2018
I'm looking for
love as limitless
as the amount of
antique shops in any
given small town,
where the stories of old
take the form of rickety
milk carton crates
refusing to be sold.
Give me love as strong
as those floorboards
gently cradling the past.
The owner flips the
sign on the door.
"Closed"
love as limitless
as the amount of
antique shops in any
given small town,
where the stories of old
take the form of rickety
milk carton crates
refusing to be sold.
Give me love as strong
as those floorboards
gently cradling the past.
The owner flips the
sign on the door.
"Closed"
I was traveling through my home state and noticed that every single small town had an abundance of antique shops. Something about that hit me with an overwhelming feeling of inspiration and this poem was the result.
