Thursday, December 13, 2012

Crossing Mass at 9th St.




In the folds
of her dark green
sweater

lie hills and valleys
of sunlight and shadow,
each one a new horizon
across her form.

She walked ahead of me,
her face looking forward,
pale sneakers
marking the pavement
with disappearing steps.

1 comment:

dawnmarie said...

Now that's a more "traditional" poem. That way of describing the sweater turns over in your mind awhile after you finish it.