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Poetry - Writers Nook

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Kristoffer Martin

Symphony, chains clinking against metal
Links rubber seats cradle and comfort

Sand filled wind hums the tune metre with each swish
Each dip, each crest

Married two too young to know
The missed crescendo

An imbalance, a racket and rocked seat
Waxing ever skyward only to wan

What chains pull, lashing our minds to the past
Gone playgrounds and dusty summer days

That grazed the sky with time to spare
So fast we lose so many visions

Red top curls, acrobats balanced above
Simple crescent eyes

Idealistic mirrors for the unknown
It was the last we swung

Boy Whom I Never Knew

I see you seated there
Without a coat on this cold bus
Brown auburn eyes glancing up at me
Past me, curious, nervous, alone

Your hands squeezed tightly in a bunch
Grasping the end of your sleeves
Weakened by the short yawn
And I know who you are

I see you studying people
Testing your wit against
Dark shadows that wonder in and out
Across the colored windows

The same you are, to me
As I was then
And though I do not know you
Born years after me

I know you, fear for you
Wish that I was a different person
A person in your life
To show you how not to be me

But I know that I am not that person
So as this bus ends its trip
Settles for its short reprieve at a
Transfer station in the middle of early
Winter darkness

I leave you to your wit, your bright curious eyes
Knowing that you will find your way to your next bus
And to your home where all the love or hate or indifference
Awaits you.


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