Saturday, April 17, 2010

On the balcony in my bare feet after the rain and before the sun

On still evenings when no one seems to be alive,
I go out on the balcony.
There is no other way to catch my breath.
Yet I have not been running.
Or climbing stairs.
Or falling in love.
I just can't catch my breath.
Out on the balcony this evening in my barefeet and faded jeans, I visited the ending of the rain.
And there I caught my breath again.
And breathed out the sadness.
And breathed out the cobwebs in my throat.
And then my roommate came home.

And I never said a thing about it, because I never do.

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