Stepping Stone Moon

Benjamin Jenkins, life, poem, poems, poetry, Throwback Thursday, writing

I walk a landscape

Of glass, concrete, grass, and

Raspberries by the carton.

 

Decorated by graffiti,

Pour Boy Pub stands South of Barton.

Cigarettes wink like fireflies.

 

If I could leap

Onto that moon,

I could leap down to you.

 

In homestead, I listen

To the refrigerator hum

In my kitchen.

 

In a glass bowl

Two rotten bananas lean forgotten

With two impossibly yellow.

 

Your mother says:

“It is bad luck to return an empty dish”.

She has her superstitions.

 

This poem inspired intentions

Of reaching out to you.

Then ended, reminding me

I spent the day with family.

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