It Poem by Dean Meredith
It
Half-eight
And a little bit open
I wasn't too sure
Which way to go
Expectedly
I took the back door
Walked right through it
No cuts, no bleeds, just through
The air seemed to invite me
I was happy for the pull
Walked right through, into it
Felt it & it felt me
Probably, I'm unsure
I felt something, at least
And it, hopefully felt me
Monday, October 15, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: feeling
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5/4/2024 3:24:32 PM # 1.0.0.1119
