June 19

The custodians stack chairs
scraps swept into dustpans
decorations pulled down,
walls are again walls.

The tile floor is calm
and if you listen close, you hear
nothing. It’s something like losing
the body. Your soul

is a single box, overflowing
with memories and plans
on how to do better
when commotion returns.

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Author:

A day is not done, until it's filled with words.

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