The spring set.
Grass ways.
A lemon spring cucumber
sprung from the side yard,
I could hear crying in the bus tunnels this morning.
One-ninety-four straight south.
She was holding on to his arm,
the same one gripping a suitcase.
A part of you swept through the bus tunnel this morning.
The grip of Union,
Pioneer and King Street couldn't hold it.
1 comment:
i love you cuz!
Post a Comment