Storefront Poetry

I got a job in an art gallery, she calls it a sanctuary, a place of infinite possibilities.
If I had half the enthusiasm poured in one of her paintings I’d
have a third of the selling price.

I
There’s a void
that goes
deeper than we know
A depth
that dug
its way to our chests
I sit on the edge
and swing my
legs
drop pennies
like wishes
to see how
far they
fall
I don’t hear
them
I can’t see
I drop them
into the well
of eternity

lg

II
I’m too young
to have regrets.
I can’t help
but think
where I would be,
even now,
if I had gone right
instead of left.

lg

III
I am here—now
stretched between where I was
where I’m going
stretched between what I want
what I do
my feet spread
side to side
far apart
I can feel the seams
stretching
tearing me down
the middle ever so gently
like a string loosened
that undoes the entire
creation
But I am here—
I realize that with
a sigh of relief
and sit down
rest my feet

lg

IV
I am me
they tell you
not to be so
self-centered
but if I am not
I lose balance
and lose sight
and lose ground
and lose me.

lg

V
I’m a late bloomer
whose pedals have
opened at
the end of
September
who shivers
in November
but remains
open
and bloomed
sunning my pedals
in the cold afternoon
I made it this far
I won’t shrivel
and fall
The flower who
is last
lasts longer than
all.

lg

VI
anxiety is a fad
a trend that
follows
I have heard
tales of attacks
told triumphantly
they take pride
in their fall
I speak of my panic
and rather than
receiving help
I get a high-five

lg

VII
And all I can say after
all of this
is that one must
above all
have hope
hope that all
works out
and that all
find out
that it all
comes together
when we work
altogether
you and me
and all the earth
and nature
and everything.
All of us.

lg

VIII
it rains
and rains
and rains
and pours
but the sun
comes out
on Savannah’s
shores

lg

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