Saturday, January 14, 2017

in transition

she's in transition,
she tells me.
between love,
looking for work,
a new place to live,
carrying ashes
from the past.
I say to her, who isn't.
who isn't
stepping of the train
each day
with a bag, a sigh,
a well worn map.

1 comment:

Di said...

Like this small poem.