Umbrella

Ms. Haiku
Ms. Haiku Washington DC Posts: 7,389
edited September 2006 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art
Within the restlessness she found space
to switch her keys from one hand to the next.
Her hat doused in rain,
she walks the longest route through sidewalk lakes.
Her one hand continues to chase her keys
when her other hand pushes them away.

80% of stairwells climb up,
and 10% of all rain removed by the 5th step.
A change in breath.
A clearing of the throat.
An unhesitant knock.

Between his spurts of laughter, and puddles of questions,
his, and yes, I knew him well.
Escape formed along her spine
within the curve of her shoulders.

A slender wave unseen beneath full light she crosses her wrists
to readjust her watch; slightly wet still from her earlier walk.
She reaches below her knees next, her hat repositioned down,
smells of 6 O’clock.

She leans back towards him, keys in hand,
and once she laughs, also.
There is no such thing as leftover pizza. There is now pizza and later pizza. - anonymous
The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird
Post edited by Unknown User on

Comments

  • DopeBeastie
    DopeBeastie Posts: 2,513
    this one, too...

    lovely :)

    it is so good to read your work again :)
  • Ms. Haiku
    Ms. Haiku Washington DC Posts: 7,389
    Thank you, Pasta! I'm really looking forward to reworking this one some time down the line. I don't know when, but I think it will be a very exciting thing to do.
    There is no such thing as leftover pizza. There is now pizza and later pizza. - anonymous
    The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math - The Mincing Mockingbird

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