Good Luck
Walking a last inspection through the devastation of this home
we once shared,
I find a small crystal on the carpet and pick it up.
Its surface is rough and cold,
but I would never have noticed it you were still here.
I try to remember where I first picked it up, and
I think it was that summer in the Grand Canyon
Where you kept violating the Danger! signs,
Just, I think, to hear me plead with you
to conform
for your own good.
I put the crystal in my pocket for luck.
I'll need it.
Copyright © Emerson Adkins | Year Posted 2012
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment