Poetry from parking lots
Well, not posted from or written in, but conceived in, a parking lot.
On Seeing a Silver Ford
Every time I see one,
I squint, read the license plate,
see if it’s you. I hope it is,
so I can be near you,
however tangentially.
When the numbers never match,
I feel every inch between us
as if they are shards of glass
behind my eyes.
I am also relieved,
because it means
I won’t have to
pretend
I don’t care.
Comments
This entry was posted on Thursday, August 30th, 2007 at 10:09 pm and is filed under Poem, Poetry. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
Brief … yet deep. It really makes me feel what you were feeling, so personal, and yet so human. Please continue to explore these feelings … They make for an enjoyable poetry experience.