Count to Ten Slowly

Posted: December 24, 1993 in Poetry
Tags: , , ,

I am all alone with the drip of a faucet
in the next room, the kitchen,
making flat high pitched noises
in the silence of midnight.

I embark upon a poem,
thinking about my future.

There’s no one here
in town;
I’m still college-bound
because of my set of friends.

My parents are moving
farther and farther away;
in distance and in age,
and I’m no longer laboring
under any guise of golden adolescence.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s