Earth Keeps Spinning
What book
do I pull from the shelf
in this hour
marking my friend’s
return to that light-drenched
inkling before everything
collapses?
Which title, which
weight shall I
covet? What
do we hold if not
each other?
Being no one, I cannot say.
The earth keeps spinning
even as I walk
to the mailbox,
anticipating new words.
He cannot read these lines.
I do not write them.
* * *
“Earth Keeps Spinning” was first published by Red River Review in August 2018.
At times words insist on free-running w/o being corralled into cohesive thoughts …
But your poem bridges that swirl, suggesting the thought matters more than the words.
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The thoughts, the feelings of overwhelming sadness and regret. They’re always there.
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