We ran, we fell, we played.
It was night and the bridge was full of shadows under the light.
He chased after me in the park where strangers lurked.
There were warnings of a prowler in the news.
I never saw them. I never feared them.
My foreign friend caught me, and we sparred. Only to repeat our game.
I caught him once in the daylight. He was crying.
He said, "I know I will lose you."
And he was right.
YOU ARE READING
Poetic Dirge
PoetryA variety of mostly dark poetry, both real world and imaginary. #482 dragon 6/19/18-#424 survival 6/19/18-#159 prose 6/19/18
