#4165 : prose poem

photo: Botanical Garden, Nelson, a duck projects itself into the light and its murky reflection attracts attention until it goes back into the shadow of the pond.


There she was, the old lady I would become, I said to myself, as I saw her every morning, resolved to walk about town with her shopping bag.  She was there, then one day she wasn’t.

8 réflexions sur « #4165 : prose poem »

Laisser un commentaire