Lost

The years dropped off like
brittle leaves, crab-walking
sideways in scuttle,
windblown and pocked.

I heard the crunch underfoot,
on peppermint gum splattered
sidewalks, dusted in
yesterday’s hopscotch.

Freckled moons have lit
the way home and
I return tired from rotation,
wary of gravity’s push and pull.

Where did my childhood dog
go to die when his hips
no longer straightened and
his labored breath wheezed?

I find a good place to sit,
across from a post stapled
with pictures and descriptions,
waiting for my phone to ring,
or not.

 

 

About the Poet:
Sabrina Hicks lives in Phoenix, Arizona. Her works
has appeared in Writer’s Digest, The Drabble and on
her blog, sshicks.wordpress.com.

 

 

 

Poetry Breakfast accepts submissions of poetry and poetry related creative non-fiction year-round.  See our Submission Guidelines page for details on submitting your work.

Start your morning with a nourishing poem.  Follow us on  Twitter, Facebook, and  Tumblr,  and enjoy a new poem every morning straight to your feed.

Advertisements