The idea here is that I will post bits of personal literature and subject them to the harsh criticisms of the online community. That being said, I welcome any, preferably constructive, criticisms. After all, the finest wines are all made from stepped on grapes. So be cruel if need be; these are all living documents which I hope to make better with age.

Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Presented Without Comment

I rode up to your window.

Then outside two stories down from you
I was looking on the ground for to

Hunt up small sticks and rocks,
Like signal flares to launch.

But you were already watching.
A distress call detected before it ever was sent.

Still,

I bounced a pebble off the window screen
And with a smile asked if you would meet

Me down by the water.
Where I was shuffling my feet,

When you met me on the rail bridge.
Water rushing beneath.

Took a pause for a long while.
The day could've been longer, were it earlier in the year.

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