Pocket Lint

Posted: March 30, 2015 in free verse, Poems, poetry
Tags: , , ,

Pocket Lint

From the book, Stained White Shirt

Pockets of hope wake me
on occasion
though I sleep soundly most of the time

I love to stuff my hands into those pockets
fondle the lint
seek other hands in there to hold

She had but one front tooth
used it to smile cautiously
and beautifully

She dressed far too young for her age
per someone’s standards
but her timid conversation invited me deep into her pockets

a passing moment
as is all hope

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