Pause
Dirty clothes dashing
down the hall
simply trying to squeeze
in that last load of laundry
before the bags are zipped,
toiletries staring at a ticking clock
waiting to be shoved
in a side pocket
and raced out the door,
snacks packed ferociously
by starving savages,
a glimpse of your eyes,
and smoke ascending
from my heels…
3 thoughts on "Pause"
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Know these mornings well, and you were able to work a poem out of one. Nice.
I love the ending!
Your poem paints a story in a fresh way…