The sky folds like linen,
blue edges frayed by wind.
I walk the sidewalk like it owes me
something—maybe a shadow
that doesn’t keep tripping over itself.
A pigeon flaps past,
carrying yesterday’s crumbs,
and I think: even birds
have baggage.
Still, the light hits my cheek
like a hand I didn’t ask for,
warm, insistent—
and for once
I don’t flinch
-
Author:
ROSHI (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: February 27th, 2026 15:21
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 33
Offline)
Comments2
Well formed a snapshot of images with a metaphor within. Yes birds have their baggage too. Nicely written
Thank you friend.
You are most welcome
nicely done, especially with lines like
I walk the sidewalk like it owes me
something—maybe a shadow
that doesn’t keep tripping over itself.
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