Gallery

gallery

 

Walking through, you too are on display.

All of us, visitors, observing, studying, interpreting

what we see, trying to find meaning

and connection. I quietly study you studying.

And I pencil sketch our life together.

 

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Missed Connection

You were sitting just two rows ahead

at the poetry reading, listening so intently

that you didn’t notice your sweater slipped

off your shoulder. I noticed. Soft skin

perfumed by a sonnet made of air.

 

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