Wednesday, October 26, 2016

Susan Hawthorne #299 night haul


arriving in the night
long hauled into exhaustion
keys missing
unpacking on the street
everything out
footpath like an opp shop
finally in the last
corner
of the last
case

4 comments:

  1. the poem has really captured that feeling. I love 'long hauled'. Just how it feels.

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  2. Been there too, Sue. I love-hate it. Yikes. Things strewn about the footpath like a garage sale before you've even moved in.

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