come on
she said.
we're burnin' daylight
she said.
i still don't know
what she meant by that.
her's seemed to be
the only hurry in question.
so we walked.
step on a crack
break your mother's back
she said.
but my mom was long dead
and i doubt she much cared
whether or not
i stepped on any crack.
don't tell me i'm wrong
she said.
a man who lives in a glass house
shouldn't throw stones.
ain't no turning back now
she said.
but i wasn't there to hear her.
as i'd turned back awhile ago.
a stitch in time saves nine.
Tuesday, August 6, 2019
A Stitch
Posted by The Dashboard Poet at Tuesday, August 06, 2019
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