Poetry of routine: The Crossing


blows of routine, mourned

dent in chest and ache of lemons

squeezed to drink, to refill


honking horns, vrooming

breath savoring the phase of wait

men stewing under their noses


galloping gait, impatient

kicking the pebbles and people marching

the paradox of them coming to leave


a busy crossing, a musing

curlicues of civilization on interrogative hooks

moving, though not looking back for once


©Written Frames, 2019

22 thoughts on “Poetry of routine: The Crossing

  1. I love that word: “curlicues!” Have heard it spoken often. Not sure I’ve seen it written before. Gotta use it in a Haiku!
    Haiku curlicue –
    Words spinning round in circles –
    Will you follow me?


  2. What an epiphany this is, in several ways! Your ability to present the mundane scene, so crammed with humanity….and convey the moment is to be commended.
    I’m so fond of your choice of phrases like “breath savouring the phase of wait”. Awkwardly expressive in your unique thoughts….yet so fresh with the sketch. You are finding your groove sweet poet ❤

    Liked by 2 people

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