Tuesday, April 27, 2021

House

 the shadow that the floorboard casts

across my feet.


yesterday's coffee stirs

in the breeze sneaking under

cracks in window

leave broken faces staring into the sun


cold


my hands have no age

i dont recognize them


no wrinkle forms a memory

no scars are a thought


my dreams have transpired

they have become more reality than not


a neighbors lawnmower purrs


the grass is already asleep.


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