it used to be the sideways glance of
a ruddy-cheeked boy,
seeing my name printed in the paper,
and bills that paid themselves while we slept.
but now it’s letting weeds grow just to see the flowers,
sliding stiff-legged across a frozen pond in galoshes,
and finding out the rock in my chest
was just an apparition after all.
Thanks for reading. Please clap, follow me or enjoy another poem.
🐝 beth
