Thursday Poetry: My Mistakes


door

 

I keep my mistakes

In a dust storm

Pirouetting across the parking lot

Of a motel in Laramie

Where the only escape is a room next to

Unseen laughter, moans

And the hard edge

Of things not done.

Published by 67steffen

My labels: grandfather, father, veteran, writer, poet, photographer and dreamer in pursuit of the meaning of life. Getting close, although I'm running out of time--probably why I'm so close.

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