Morning in the City

Morning in the city, an expectation
of crowds, and yet
you walk alone.

About this poem

About thirty minutes ago, this was a long poem. Cut. Cut. Snip. Snip, and it’s three lines. Actually, I think it was always three lines. It just took me a while to realize it.  I think there is a lesson and an essay in this somewhere.

About depression. About loners, introverts, and the marginalized. About me. Maybe about you.

Funny when the explanation is longer than the poem.

Tom