shot glass
title
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Lois Marie Harrod


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Moving Walkway

(Sonnet)

The moving walkway stops short and we,
momentary thrust of gravity,
lurch forward, stumble-catch ourselves,
perch out of water, fish-flopped vanity.

It's the way we are often stopped
haphazardly by all those things beyond
our control—colds, terrorist attacks,
whatever says wait a minute, just wait one minute

but usually we keep going, snatch
up the carry-on, scootch ahead,
growl perhaps, grimace, never mind,
what did we expect, another prospect

unfulfilled like so many other,
marriage, children, salmon for supper.