It is what I do now
Not walk to the familiar door
Not turn the key in the locks
Not collect the post from the floor
Not stop.
Instead I walk past the building hurriedly
The windows are strangers
Wind roars with insidious intent
Larks about along the pavement.
It is what I do now
Write you away with all the prose in me
Sky defaults to steel-gray
Shade of a whale’s back.
It is what I do now
The sadness will stop dropping
Its depth-charges on my soul
The savior will come
Like tender face-washing rain.
L Strong 9.4.19.
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