There you are
sitting on the edge
of a park bench,holding
up the sky
not feeling the wight
of it now
because there is something
else holding you
up.
our quiet argument
We carry a burden
on our backs
useless rucksacks
we hump the broken
lansdscape littering
it with mementos of our time
together
here a picture from Spain
a child's sock
a soft piece of purple rope
We are sometimes bent down
sagging earthward
if it's lonliness
If someday it
carries us tenderly and lightly
over the ground,
it might be love
the burden is still there
keeping us from
diverging ,
from forgetting ourselves
and here it is
only Tuesday.
