interlude

interlude

the thought 

comes quickly 

to me, 

as the rain on hot asphalt, 

soaking through

my off-white shoes. 

I think for a moment 

that I'll let it go--

leave a trail of breadcrumbs

for the birds circling above, 

who turn like grief, 

like so many 

smoke rings. 

to let it slip

from my fingertips, 

let it fall past 

the laces--

those perked bunny ears

quivering on the tongue. 

it would crack

on the pavement, 

bleeding a creamy yolk 

like sunset, 

the whites glistening--

morning dew. 

 

and what then? 

it'd be gone, 

soaked up 

by the weeds. 

gone, 

oh, what a hollow word 

to taste. 

I'll continue walking, 

then, 

let the rain tease

through my hair. 

not looking down, 

away from the off-white.