“Share”
A piece of the pie,
a space in a crowded bed,
or sometimes, a cold.
Steve D
A piece of the pie,
a space in a crowded bed,
or sometimes, a cold.
Steve D
Opportunity,
face-to-face conversations
like Teams with handshakes.
Steve D
Rusted ruddy shell,
nearly lost in an old shed,
yet the motor roars.
Steve D
Little lives criss-crossed,
sharing histories unknown,
legacy friendships.
Steve D
Peruse neighborhoods,
each home a potential life,
a forever place.
Steve D
Interstitial arcs,
cross-weaving character threads,
patterns emerge.
Steve D
Balanced green stalk to
dry and harden to kindling
or turn to soil.
Steve D
A trike and a ball.
Cement floors to roam, unchecked.
Safe zone for wild boys.
Steve D
The trustiest tool
until needed urgently,
then ne’er to be found.
Steve D
Two wide-eyed gazes
meet each other, a stare-down.
One breaks, they both laugh.
Steve D