poem 55

Regret

Sometimes the long line knocks,
shoves aside the dusty boot holding
down the threshold barring the door,
where the other dusty boot scuffles acrid
stale billows—thought left behind—rolls
between wobbly, oddbodkin knees shaking  
with demands thought better of and set carefully aside.
...
 
REVISION

Regret

Sometimes the long line knocks on my barred door,
shoving aside the dusty boot holding down the threshold,
while the other old boot scuffles acrid stale billows
that roll between wobbly, oddbodkin knees with demands
thought better of and carefully set aside.



(Thanks to Bev Lyon for the great revision ideas.)