poems,  poetry


Banana boxes
filled with books
and journals
sit outside the door

Garbage bags
stretched thin
with clothes
and twisted hangers

Dusty frames
off of the wall
in a twisted tower
they lay

Ready for the jump
divots in the carpet
holes in the walls
empty closets

It will all make sense
even if it’s confusing
and new

They cry for their life
they smile for the new
they hold hands
and journey ahead.