“Oh My Goodness”
Was passing away
Those passing days:
The way she saw
Our days, each day
Wearing away.
I walked my wet
Bike through our doorway.
She sat inside on the floor,
A mystery in hand, smiling
As she saw my smile
As I passed on through
To the space out back.
I set aside the dripping
Boots, the sodden
Gloves, the streaming
Jacket seeing her looking
At last at the evidence
I’d left on her floor,
Hearing her “Oh my
Goodness” once more.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment