Silver-sided thursday
Late morning, not quite
Afternoon
The steady scent of spring's flowers, dutifully
Blossoming
Obscenely in the cold
The cold wet around my ankles
Dragged up from the ground
Frail next to the bark of
Tuesday's tree
Stark brick building
My mother's morning tea
The shadow of a crucifix
Blocking the sun from my
Chameleon eyes
The time between texts
A deep inhale and a harsh white in knuckles
Replacing the rosy pink of
Moments ago
Yes, but
Well...
Another mile won't make me
Stronger
When I already emptied
My pockets for you...
And how my small change made you smile!
Remembering,
My smile
Opening me up
Like an old wound
The crows are at my throat