Young Writers Society

maybe she skipped too many steps
on her way to work,
maybe he should have lifted his gaze,
but their paths diverged for a second,
long enough to meet eyes, but not enough
to engage in a simple conversation.

instead their families watch the news
the next day, reading over headlines
of apologies and regrets,
of how a biker caught up to them
both in time to at least provide
first aid, but by the time
the ambulance arrived,
they had the chance to say thank you
and nothing more to close their eyes.

Fall to the floor,
Gaze with wide eyes,
At the stars,
Oh so high above.

Summer
To winter,
Winter to
fall,

Watch the seasons trickle by,
In an outpour,
As the stars spin
Across the sky.

newel of a star
axis spinning annular
glides into the night

My last breath was for you,
months and years spent,
only for a feeling to come out of the blue

I was a slave to you,
stretching and reaching as high as a mountain
But you were ever out of my grasp

An illusive dream,
that was only meant to pop
and burn in a flame.

Someday I will
take responsibility
for the tangerines
that fell out of my pocket
even if
not today,
not entirely.

I scribble on my to-do list
to get bigger pockets, to learn to sew,
among other things
like picking up the peels
and licking the juice from my fingertips.