Paperboy Poem by Leslie Philibert
Paperboy
The cold changes
the wieight of my steps.
Each door opens with glass.
My parka tired with old dirt.
The early moon carelessly
ignored; my hands dark with print.
Dogs bark in circles.
Milkfloats whine in electric.
Nearly another life as I
discover the inner life of gates
and how to dance
around plants and bikes
and how to grown
into a morning.
Discovering another life with cold changes is wonderful definitely. Nice poem shared here.10.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/22/2024 12:37:51 PM # 1.0.0.1119
A vivid depiction, Leslie. Thanks for sharing