1 minute read
Poem: escapist
pushing rhythms
reaching homeward as the light begins to fade passed the past until the past stood stooped on the porch wrapped hands pressing away the rain sifting reasons as the tea s e e p s through the water spikes heavier as eyelids droop bowed head plunged in problems clouded futures like the horizon the night we sat on the field close but not quite edging towards the deep end