Main Street — Image by kenne
a poet in Conroe
standing
on the corner
looking down
main street.
it was raining.
I was in my
short sleeves.
cold
but I like the rain.
I stood by a
lamp-post.
nobody came by.
who would
on a night like this.
maybe a poet
in need of
wordsmithing
of this moment.
as night
follows day
it will happen.
some night,
just not tonight —
there will be a poet
in Conroe.
— kenne
Reblogged this on Becoming is Superior to Being and commented:
Revisiting this posting from four years ago when the night, not like tonight, yet a feeling of sameness. — kenne