by mistersoto

although he was there
he didn’t pick up
what was he doing?
a sense of being stranded amongst the days
tugged like an outgoing tidal wave
slightly pulling
was he caught
staring out of window’s vision
a bookmark dropped into a book
like a single day
enveloped between the pages of tomorrow and yesterday
what had he read on today’s?
before flicking through the book shut
under these low clouds
separate ways
might be here to stay