Following Gene Kelly's Footsteps

Two javas delivered in bone-colored mugs,
A plate of what someone believes are beignets
Between us, we stare at the slate-gray Sound.
“It wouldn't be home without drizzle,” I say,
But I'm not inconvenienced, neither is J.
We are shopping for nothing, on our way
Nowhere, mostly huddled beneath one
Umbrella, having a wonderful day.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 102 times
Written on 2019-06-26 at 20:10

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