Poetry
DUSK & DAWN
We are a family that move
The sounds of dusk and dawn
Slide past each other
Mornings freeze or swelter
The books move
The pets move
The pans move
Still, many treasures
Slip through our fingers
Once
There will be, could
A great walking machine, a walker
To take us places, a placer of sorts
Sometime, on a Friday,
I’ll go
Once
A naver, a roamer
A great finding machine
Would you come too?
Would your walking,
Place you,
In the neighbourhood, the some time
When once I could be,
There one day
And say, “jump up”,
Once