WHEELS SPINNING, DUST FALLING
(Tom moves to Texas) by Cleo Griffith
Sink,
sudsy,
filled with wheels
spinning against my palms
splashing up to my face, mingling,
wheels chipped white along blue edges
pink-and-white dishcloth-wiped
wheels spinning toward Texas,
dust falling into dishpanned water.
I grasp hard through dissolving bubbles
reach down and down
but cannot catch
and hold
wheels.
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Art by
Calvert
Brown
Title: The Bus Stop
Cleo Griffith lives in
Salida, California. She is a member of Poets of The San Juan in Modesto,
California. Her publishing credits include: First Things, Time of silence,
Lutheran Digest, Christian Science Monitor, The Blind Man's Rainbow, The
Kaleidoscope Review and Poetry Depth Quarterly.
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