What’s good–


You sat on that stoop

You cried in one eye…


Could allergies flush

–on such cold,

New York days;

Had gusting stray

wind scraped

a naked eye


You sat on that stoop

that short, rocky pillar

that pedestal to no-one

that–even the bum

had sat elsewhere

in free will


You cried in one eye,

as hundreds passed–


you’d set free a tear

and let it to stream


It’d carved you slowly

Meandering modest

–pooling you lazily


In that moment,

when–the tear curled

past your lip,

surely you’d tasted

the salt…


Had times spoiled…

Are yesterdays better…




Is the day not good?



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s