PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I try to recreate the moments of us.

There is something about spring

and terrifying new starts.

I drive to look down the hill,

at the lights,

sleepless,

distracted.

I go back to the fifth floor,

something has changed.

We are in the same seats but we breathe together,

I don’t pull away,

you don’t second-guess.

We are in the same skin but

we have been where we can’t tell which is which.

This is like trying to find the dry ground

once the skies have opened.

We will not go back.

But I can look to tomorrow

for all the moments of us.