Adjusting my seat

 

 

 You throw me my coat and boots

I drape my jacket over my shoulders and carry out my boots

I only feel cold at my back.

 

Then you pull me along.

Adjust my seat

I feel us moving and I couldn’t care less where we are going.

 

At a stoplight I see a flag being slapped by the wind, open palmed

Recoiling around the post,

Then snapping back,

Fighting the force of it all

I know it means nothing to you.

 

When we get where, we are going, will you finally speak?

Will you undress me and pull the covers up?

Will you leave me lying still but awake?

Side by side but never touching

Even sighing in different directions.

The End

0 comments about this poem Feed