I hold small hurts
in the folds
of my skirt.
They fall
when I forget.
The sidewalk’s soft
with feelings
I’ve dropped,
glutted with tender spots.
I hold small hurts
in the folds
of my skirt.
They fall
when I forget.
The sidewalk’s soft
with feelings
I’ve dropped,
glutted with tender spots.
One response
• Flora, July 9, 2009 at 12:49 pm
Sweet!