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Short poem about choices and where we end up? |
We like to stay outside these days Legs crossed, Knees dipping through the plastic bands Of a broken pool chair. Our backs rest against red brick, And we think about the ghosts That keep us on the outside of these walls So uniform and still behind us. We don’t talk. But we sit side by crooked side And the broken sunlight Dips through our toes The thing we do is watch The snow. Even after it’s not falling And it just lies there Like something dead We watch, But we don’t talk. There is something beautiful about it, The chaotic individuality of each broken flake So uniform and still when they land. We watch them dip and melt together in a frozen sheet, side by crooked side. And we wonder About the world behind our backs, Brick and crooked and watching. And whether light could still shine Through our fingers If we were to go back there. |