3 poems in proximity

i have seen the ancient oak
when he fell
we scattered his ashes in the sound
and picked the acorns off the ground

two strangers sat juxtaposed
one was wearing the others clothes
no sound but grief
no sight but death
the air was tense with bated breath
one said to one
while lips moved in unison
i don’t know you
or care to
i’m telling you this to prepare you
i’m calling it off
taking a shot
at a life without
your disapproving looks

winter
is a hard thing
to swallow
days
locked inside
waiting
for life
for the sun
for something else to drink
other than sorrow

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2 thoughts on “3 poems in proximity

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