Gavin Robinson

The space between my coffee maker
and window is illuminated by small beams of light.

And they remind me of a flowing river.
...

I long to see the distant fields of cows,
The flowing water of catfish farms
that mark the halfway point between my heart
And yours.
...

It takes a certain type of person to notice
it beneath their nose.

I have ventured down the road a ways
...

All life appears to me on the cusp.
At the edge of a cliff
At the end of my pen
On the tip of my tongue
...

What secrets lie buried between the four corners of my mind?
Nerve synapses, neurological wiring...
What power does it all hold?
...

I know we have so much to do,
I know there are so many places to go.

Yet, I think it's hardly the point.
...

I've considered the woman perched aside the stovetop,
Zesting an orange

I've pondered the way her locks of hair screen the worry on her face.
...

Staring back at me with such vacant eyes,
the memoir on the shelf waits to be bought-

Never considering it's on the clearance aisle.
...

My foot rapidly lifts in the air a few inches
Only to smack the wooden floor beneath it

Over and
...

The wind whistles and the trees run from me.
Only a small space between them to see the setting Sun.
I smile as I rest my head on the pollen covered window.
Maybe, I'll dream of you before we make it home.
...

With a conversation's end,
Almost always comes the return

To the car, to home,
...

How long have I tried to break the grasp
of my cluttered mess?

Swift thoughts drown in a sea
...

A quick change is made on a dime.
Not a penny, nor a nickel,
But a dime.
...

Cracked paths usually
lead me to secrets.

Brick walls of the
...