A Portsmouth Morning


 The rain, remnants of
a night crying quietly,
in depressed puddles
shallow stains the
ground hugging itself
a little too tight a little
too close… filled with
tears, islands of
 reflection grabbing
pieces of the sky as I walk
past grey clouds above &
below…between me and
the beginning of the
day; seagulls scatter over
a still shiny parking lot
white pushpins marking
spots to remember
for some forgotten
reason…the sky doesn’t
move yet tells me
exactly why it made
the night so
sad…and I can’t help
but agree.



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