Rereading entries and looking back over the past three years of blogging. Don’t want all of this to disappear into the past.  Feeling hungry.

Dalmatiandigs's Blog

Where would we be,

If the door had not been wide open,

Or if the shelves had been bare,

Or if you had moved along to, say, Madison or Timbuktu,

Where would we be,

If that slow walk had not taken us through the rain,

To empty bowls of soup,

to hunger.

Where would we be.

If their dark eyes had not searched us from the corners,

Their  little feet running along the countertops,

As we lay in the dark,  listening.

Or that swelling between us had not slipped away.

Where would we be.

If  the sidewalks had not stretched from corner to corner,

A meaningless, washed out grey,

Had not stretched senselessly away from there.

Where would we be.

And if  only that fly you so effortlessly caught in your hand

Had just landed on its feet.

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