Street Gutter
In a little paper boat
floating down the street
on a rivulet
I’ve written all my schemes and dreams
to keep near to feel your heartbeats
like velvet.
While wax cracks off the bow
tapping on the curb
I wonder when I’ll reach you.
Time flies as crimson poppies die
by frostbite
but for you I hope this not to disturb.
Alas, the tide turns
I fall into a copper maw
but I still wonder
if you’d ever ponder
wishing for the poppies to thaw.
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Posted Mar 31, 2023, 3:23 PM UTC · edited
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