
Moving Day
You held the key to my heart
for a time
It’s trite but true
I was a cliche -
a red convertible on the PCH
a drunken tourist on Bourbon Street
a country come to town in NYC
Cliches are created by shared experiences
We shared nothing of substance
a mythology of kinship, an unfurnished room
You were a cackling crow
who shut the door and flew away
With thanks to artist Gaynor Kane and Paul Brooke from The Wombwell Rainbow for this prompt.
Reblogged this on The Wombwell Rainbow.
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